


What are the chances

by lostinfictionalworlds



Series: What are the chances [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, First Meeting, Flirting, Fun, Kurt is not impressed by Blaine, M/M, famous!blaine, intern!Kurt, student!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 39,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6371800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinfictionalworlds/pseuds/lostinfictionalworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superstar Blaine Anderson meets Vogue intern Kurt Hummel, who unfortunately just does not seem as interested in him, as Blaine is in Kurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilyvandersteen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyvandersteen/gifts).



> This story is based on the following tumblr prompt which was sent to me by the lovely Lilyvandersteen- thank you, hon. I’ve kind of adapted this a little and spun it around with a nice little twist so I hope it’s still what you wanted?
> 
> ~What started as an innocent chance meeting between Kurt Hummel and his (secret?)idol, the world famous 27 year old Blaine Anderson, becomes way more than a regular fan encounter when for the first time in his life, Blaine finds himself not wanting to run away. 
> 
> http://lilyvandersteen.tumblr.com/post/123726409714/kurtsies-au-what-started-as-an-innocent-chance ~

**_based loosely on following tumblr prompt<http://lilyvandersteen.tumblr.com/post/123726409714/kurtsies-au-what-started-as-an-innocent-chance>  _ **

 

_*_

 

_Blaine_ _Anderson? America’s gay sweetheart, star of stage and screen, pop sensation, and serial bed hopper, Blaine Anderson?_

_Yeah…no thanks._

Kurt laughs lightly to himself as his fingers scatter over the keyboard of his laptop. The email is sharply deleted and he goes about his work, as he does everyday.

 

Kurt has his own office in the Vogue.com New York building. Though, it’s unusual for a second year apprentice. The room is small and boxlike, painted in neutral colors with faux potted plants taking up residence on the beige carpeted floor. It smells constantly of citrus scented cleaning products and the windows don’t open more than a crack, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

 

Kurt loves his internship here. The hours are long and hard but it keeps him busy and fills in the time when he doesn’t haven’t any classes at New York’s finest Performing Art’s school. The pay check for just being an intern isn’t bad either.

 

His supervising manager, Isabelle likes him. A lot. It’s probably the reason why he’s left to come and go as he pleases around here. She says that Kurt is _her_ people. He talks her language and she’s thankful of having someone young and fresh faced, unafraid to speak his mind and share his true values. They’ve become good friends over the short amount of time that Kurt has been interning with the company, and she has been able to provide somewhat of a nurturing influence to him since he moved to the city and started working there.

 

He’s just dropping off some invoices to her desk when she stops him with a hand on his wrist and a grin. “Did you get the company email?”

 

Kurt raises an eyebrow and leans back on his heels. “About Blaine Anderson?”

 

She nods. “He’ll be stopping by our office next week. How exciting! Are you going to accept the exclusive meet and greet offer?”

 

“I guess that it’s a great chance for those who appreciate his talent and—”

 

“Oh my god. You don’t like him?” Isabelle sounds scandalized but humored all the same.

 

“I did not say that.”

 

“No, but you were about to give me some speech about why you don’t want to meet him. There are thousands of kids out there who would kill for the chance to meet heartthrob, Blaine Anderson. He’s gorgeous and sings like a dream—”

 

“So let one of those kids meet him instead. What are you his publicist? Number one fan?”

 

Isabelle picks up a sheet of blank paper, scrunches it up into a ball and throws it so that it bounces off of Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt makes no effort to move, instead choosing to stand there, glaring playfully at his boss.

 

“You just don’t want anybody to see how it looks on you to have a crush. You never talk about anybody that you hook up with—”

 

“That’s because I don’t.”

 

“Well you should. It’s ok to like people, Kurt. You’re young and handsome and you’ve got a promising future ahead of you. It could include a superstar—”

 

“Alright, I’m ending this. Will that be all, madam?” He asks, his smile too wide.

 

“Yes.” She retorts, grinning back just as teasingly. “Now get out of my sight. Oh and let’s do Mexican for lunch. You must try that burrito I had the other week from  that place a few blocks over—”

 

Kurt ducks out of Isabelle’s office as she carries on babbling away. He smiles all the way down the hallway back to his own desk.

 

He really does feel very lucky and happy in this current phase of his life, right now. He doesn’t need some bigheaded, narrow minded, unfairly attractive pop star taking up his time. He has too much to do and to prove.

 

He just doesn’t have time to slobber over some Celebrity when he has plans to become one of those himself one day.

 

*

 

One week later…

 

Kurt really shouldn’t be so surprised. He shouldn’t, but he is. He tries to reboot the email, to make sure it’s been sent to the correct address. He even contacts the IT department to make sure his address hasn’t been hacked.

 

But, no. Everything is as it should be, as Kurt sits at his desk gaping at the first email he opened when he logged on that morning.

 

**Mr K Hummel,**

**Congratulations. Regarding your application to our exclusive meet and greet with Blaine Anderson this afternoon, we are pleased to inform you that you have been selected.**

**Your time slot with Mr Anderson is 2.30-2.45.**

**A member of Mr Anderson’s team will collect you from your station.**

**Thank you.**

Kurt can not do anything but stare at the thing. He can’t even move enough to delete the message or even close down the notification window.

 

A number of scenarios fly through his mind. He could go out on a late lunch and come back late (the queues at the Deli can get rather long.) He could call a client and make it a lengthy phone call (there are so many chatterboxes on his contact sheet).

 

He wants to pick up his phone or march straight down to Isabelle’s office and demand an explanation. He knows, he just _knows_ that she is behind this but he can already hear her heels clicking across the hallway’s hardwood floor; her laughter high and loud and infectious.

 

“Isabelle!” He says as calmly as he can manage once she’s at his desk, her smile sickly sweet and her eyes sparkling. 

 

“What?” She shoots back, her voice a perfect soft pitch with a tone of innocence.

 

“You know what.”

 

They glare at each other until she gives up the act in only about 2.5 seconds, her smile widens as she drops herself down into a chair in front of him.

 

“Look, here’s the deal. Honestly? I have a lunch meeting across town, a bunch of us are going and I just know I’ll be out all afternoon. And because I’m management I couldn’t decline the offer to meet a celebrity of such high calibre. It would look bad. So, I had to nominate somebody.”

 

“And you couldn’t have thought of anybody else? Nobody at all out of the hundreds of people who work in this building?” Her smile tightens a little but her eyes still shine brightly, her gaze unfaltering.

 

“Somebody from my team had to take my place.”

 

“Jessica likes his songs, I’ve heard her sing a couple—”

 

“She’s on vacation.”

 

“Oh, well I know that Leonard took his nephew to see one of Blaine’s shows. He could have—”

 

“Leonard’s off sick. Bronchitis.”

 

“…what about Marie—”

 

“Hospital appointment. Six month baby scan. She’s having twins.”

 

“Ugghh, will you have an answer to everything I suggest?”

 

“Yes. Why are you so angry about it? It’s fifteen minutes with a cute guy who has the world at his feet—”

 

“I’m not angry. I’m just not impressed by people like him.”

 

“People like what? Successful people? Talented people? Gorgeous? Rich? Funny…and he can play like four different musical instruments or something—”

 

“Does your husband know about this infatuation you have with Blaine Anderson. Is he on your Top Five Hall Pass list? Number two?”

 

“I’m ignoring you. You don’t have to be impressed by him. Don’t even enjoy it, just act like it.”

 

“Well you’re in luck cause that’s exactly what I’m going to have to do. This is why i am top of my class in drama school, I’ll show you! And anyway, Do you even know anything about the guy? Like personally, aside from his looks and his fame?”

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

“Because I’m really not interested in fame hungry attention seekers like him, walking around thinking he’s god’s gift because he can act and sing _and_ dance. So what? Other people can do that too—”

 

“You’re jealous!” Isabelle points to him with a wide smile. Kurt snaps his mouth closed and starts to shake his head. “You are, I can tell. I totally know you, Kurt. You can’t dislike people because you want what they have, Kurt. You never know, he could help you, ask him some questions, take some advice. And _be_ nice.” 

 

Isabelle starts to back away from Kurt’s desk before he can retort with anything, her smile still intact until she disappears out of his sight.

 

Kurt heaves what a feels like a monumental sigh and shakes his head. He’s been had.

 

Stars like Blaine Anderson were born into money. Their parents sent them to ridiculously expensive schools and paid for special training and singing and acting classes. Blaine has had every musical instrument under the sun bought for him, every stitch of clothing he wears is probably designer and custom made.

 

Kurt has never had that life. Nor does he want it, but he wants to be appreciated for working hard for the future he deserves. Every dime that goes towards creating his dream has been earned with blood, sweat and tears. The amount of time he has missed out on with friends because he’s either been practising, uploading an audition tape to YouTube or just worn out; is endless.

 

Kurt doesn’t want to meet Blaine so that he can hear him brag about his life and how he _made_ it.

 

There’s no way of getting out of the greet, Kurt knows this. But really what could be the worst that could happen? It’s not like they’re going to see each other again? Isabelle’s right, its only 15 minutes of his day and Kurt could even walk out after 5 if he wanted to.

 

Kurt is mature, wise and respectable. Probably three things that Blaine is not, and because of that Kurt wants to prove something not just to himself but to the world; that talented people do not have to be jerks or stumble down the wrong track.

 

People like Kurt can make it too.

 

A short while later an email notification dings up on his screen as he tries to get on with day and not dwell on the inevitable. He rolls his eyes as he clicks open the file and sees that the sender is Isabelle. He sighs particularly loud when a picture begins to load, and his “oh my god” accompanied by a groan is unmistakeable when Blaine Anderson’s too handsome for his own good, smiling face pops up on Kurt’s screen; with “I can’t wait to meet you, Kurt” printed in bold text beneath it.  

 

*

 

“Mr Anderson is very busy right now. He’s postponing an international tour to take part in these meet and greets right now. He loves his fans. They mean the world to him…”

 

Kurt zones out the shrill, speedy voice of Blaine’s young assistant (probably a groupie) as she ushers him down the hallway towards the elevator shaft.

 

_I do not care._

 

Once in the elevator the girl with brown, shiny hair falling over her shoulders and a too white smile leans forward to push the button named ‘Rooftop.’

 

She catches Kurt’s eye, “It’s nice out today and Mr Anderson loves being outside and having fresh air.”

 

 _Of course he does_ , Kurt thinks and rolls his eyes when he looks down at his shoes.

 

“He’s hired a lemonade stand to be set up there. He wants all his guests to feel refreshed.”

 

_Oh my god._

A few moments later the elevator slows to a stop and the doors slide open revealing a wedge of golden sun slicing through the pale blue afternoon sky.

 

The rooftop is decorated beautifully with potted plants and dark wooden décor and furnishing. In the far corner is a canapé sloped over a swinging love seat. Blaine is sitting regally on one side, a knee crossed over his leg and an arm spread over the back of the couch.

 

A crowd of people wearing dark clothes and sunglasses with head sets are scattered all around. A large, bulky man approaches Kurt and asks for permission to check for any dangerous items. Kurt nods begrudgingly.

 

_Really, does he think he’s the president or something?_

 

Blaine’s dark shades cover his eyes (which Kurt knows from accidently glancing at photos of him in magazine spreads, are usually an enchanting mix of honey and emerald green.) He’s wearing a pair of dark, ripped skinny jeans which are cut off at his calves, and a white tank top covered by an unbuttoned, short sleeved, brightly patterned shirt. His feet are bare and a pair of distressed leather sandals are discarded on the ground below his swinging feet where the seat is gently rocking back and forth. His toes are perfectly manicured, Kurt can’t help but notice.

 

“Hi.” He says brightly as Kurt is ushered forward towards him. There’s a dazzling smile creeping on to his lips and Kurt suddenly hates the fact that he can’t see Blaine’s eyes. He already doesn’t trust him but not being able to see what Blaine is looking at is freaking him out.

 

_Just 5 minutes. Just 5 minutes—_

“Welcome. Thank you for coming up here today to meet with me.”

 

_Oh, please. Drop the act—_

Blaine slows his rocking and stands, accepting a card that is handed to him. “Mr Hummel?” He reads out loud.

 

_Yes, you’re not getting my first name._

“Yes. Hi, Mr Anderson. It’s…nice to meet you.” Kurt has to swallow down the taste of bitter sourness from his tongue.

 

“Like wise. And please call me Blaine.” Blaine smiles warmly. He pauses as if waiting for something but Kurt stands his ground, barely looking at the man in front of him.

 

Blaine’s infamous curls are softly flowing from side to side under the gentle afternoon’s breeze. His skin is tanned, a flawless complexion and as he turns to sit back down Kurt allows himself to take a quick reassuring breath. He feels a tiny dot of sweat bead up on his brow.

 

_It’s just the heat._

 

“Please, come sit with me.” Blaine calls brightly, a hand gestured towards the spare space beside him.

 

 _Oh I’d really rather not._ But Kurt knows there isn’t really a choice in the matter.

 

Once sat down and settled as far away from Blaine as is appropriate, even though Blaine has shifted closer and moved his arm up and around Kurt’s shoulders; Kurt pats down his clothes, straightens his posture and finally turns in Blaine’s direction.

 

Blaine is smiling broadly at him. And he has taken off his sunglasses.

 

_Whoa!._

His eyes are like bright sparks of amber but somehow look deep and dark as they bore into Kurt. He glances back down at the card in his hand. “It says here that your first name is Kurt. Can I call you Kurt?”

 

Kurt manages to keep his groan inwards and nods as friendly as he can.

 

“Would you like some lemonade, Kurt?” Blaine’s voice is low and quiet. Cautiously, soft. He gestures towards the little stand towards the right of the swing.

 

 _Does this ass ever stop smiling?_ “No thank you. I’m fine.” Kurt stops and waits until he realizes that _he_ is the one that is supposed to be asking Blaine the questions.

 

_Damn. What the hell do I say?_

“So, Mr Anderson, I—”

 

“Am I correct in believing that you attend a Performing Arts School here in the city, Kurt?”

 

“Yes” Kurt answers, slow and quiet and careful. He tries to peer but fails at the little card in Blaine’s hand.

 

“That’s awesome. Me too- well I used to.” Blaine grins proudly.

 

 _Is that right?_ Kurt had read somewhere that Blaine attended a private Art’s Academy somewhere in Europe.

 

“Which school?” Blaine asks before Kurt can get a chance to think of something to say.

 

“Um- Tisch at—”

 

“NYU” Blaine finishes for him. “Wow, cool coincidence. I miss that place.”

 

“You- you went there?” Kurt tries to keep his voice calm and steady. He would hate for Blaine to think that he actually cares.

 

Blaine smiles again but this time it’s a little sadly, soft around the edges. “Yeah. I loved it. That was back when I—” He sighs wistfully. “Well it was before now. It was another life.”

 

_Do not try and make me feel sorry for you._

 

“Oh” Is all Kurt says, but his tone isn’t as clipped as before. “I heard- I read that you—”

 

“Never believe everything you hear or read, Kurt. That’s advice 101 for you. With this life comes another character that you must slip into, and with them comes rumours and lies and a whole other role to play.”

 

Kurt is trying incredibly hard not to let his mouth fall open. He cannot believe what Blaine has just admitted to him. A total stranger.

 

Kurt is not dumb, he knows that the celebrity life is not what it’s cracked up to be. He knows that there are two sides to every story. It’s just weird and ever so surprising hearing it from Blaine so plain and simple.

 

For lack of knowing what to do or what to say, Kurt glances down at his watch and finds that almost 6 minutes have passed.

 

 _Hallelujah!_  

 

“I understand that you’re a hard and busy worker” Blaine says watching Kurt look down at his wrist. That bright and bold tone has returned to his voice. “I must be keeping from you so many important things.”

 

_What exactly is written on that card about me?_

“Yes, well. Thank you, Mr Anderson—”

 

“Blaine.”

 

“Ah- yeah, Blaine. Thank you for this…insightful chat. But I must get back to work.”

Kurt stands and to his surprise Blaine stands with him instantly.

 

“I feel like this has hardly been insightful” Blaine says with a little cheeky grin. “I’ve hardly learnt anything more about you, Kurt.”

 

_Anything more about me? Wasn’t this thing set up to learn more about you? What the hell is happening here?_

“Uh- yes well, thank you, again.” Kurt curses inwardly. He’s never rendered speechless. He’s always at the top of his game.

 

Kurt moves to take a step back and Blaine annoyingly takes a step with him. Closer. He puts out a hand and Kurt would roll his eyes if wouldn’t be seen as impolite.

 

They shake hands tightly but as Kurt pulls his hand back he is suddenly pulled into a unexpected hug. Blaine’s arms hold Kurt snugly around his middle, his hands resting over the lapels of Kurt’s fabric blazer.

 

_Jesus! Oh my god, he smells amazi- stop it!_

Kurt leaps away from Blaine and lets out an awkward little giggle. Blaine continues to smile and stare. “Would you like an autograph, Kurt? A picture?”

 

 _Ha!_ “Um, no thank you it’s quite alright.”

 

“Pity.” Blaine mumbles and Kurt’s eyes widen comically as his eyebrows rise almost to his hairline.

 

Kurt turns on his heel and walks off towards the elevator without a moment’s hesitation or a final glance. He can hear Blaine’s assistant clip clopping behind him.

 

“I can find my way back to my office, thank you.” He turns and says politely as possible. The assistant halts abruptly and gives a measured hum before spinning and striding off in the other direction.

 

In the background he is sure he can hear Blaine laughing but he dare not look.

 

Once in the elevator Kurt waits until the doors are closed and slumps back against the mirrored wall.

 

_Thank god that is over. What even was that?_

He straightens up and slides a hand into his blazer pocket to retrieve his key card that will get him back down to his department and safely into his office.

 

Only his fingers are not met with the familiar plastic laminate of his work’s ID.

 

Instead Kurt pulls out a thick, shiny black business card with Blaine Anderson’s face shadowed in the background and his _personal_ contact details on the reverse.

 

Biting his lip, with a deep sigh and an accompanied groan, Kurt pushes the Rooftop button and slumps back against elevator wall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everybody for the great comments already, I’m glad to have spiked your interest with this little, fun story.

When the elevator reaches the rooftop once again and the doors slide open, this time Kurt is met with Blaine Anderson’s smarmy, smiling face.

 

_Don’t hit him, Kurt. He’s not worth it. And the lawsuit would be well out of your budget…_

 

Rolling his eyes, Kurt steps out of the elevator. Blaine steps back with him, allowing him the space to do so; but then he’s right back crowding into Kurt’s personal space again. Kurt’s ID key-card slotted between two of his well manicured fingers.

 

“Kurt! Hi! I’m so happy to see you again, and so soon. It’s good to know it’s not only me that felt _the connection_ between us.” Blaine calls out loud and bright and obnoxiously in Kurt’s face.

 

_Connection? Is this guy on drugs?_

 

Kurt grits his teeth, steps back and holds a firm hand out so that Blaine is unable to follow him. In his hand he’s holding the business card that Blaine slid into his pocket.

 

“I don’t need nor do I want this.” Kurt says and drops the card to the ground beside Blaine’s feet. (At least he’s decided to put his sandals back on.) With his free hand he quickly reaches out and grabs his key-card back from Blaine with a swift swipe.

 

Blaine grins at him like he’s impressed. His entourage of staff are still around but don’t seem to be paying them much attention. Blaine must have told them to back off for their _reunion._

 

“I could have you charged for theft.” Kurt snaps. “This key-card is property of Vogue and is only to be used by employees.”

 

“I wasn’t using it. Only holding it. Like a keepsake.” Blaine answers and his voice is too sweet and soft.

 

Kurt feels the heat rise in his cheeks and a dull throb start to linger at his temples. “Why? Why would you do that?”

 

Blaine blinks at him. Eyes sparkling. Grin dazzling. “I wanted to see you again.”

 

 _What?_ “Why me?”

 

“I like you.”

 

“You don’t know me.”

 

“I know you enough. I want to know you more. I want you to know me too. The _real_ me.” Blaine lowers his voice and tries to step in closer but Kurt only backs away shaking his head.

 

_This is crazy. Who the hell does this asshole think he is? Shut him down and leave. Now!_

 

“Look, _Blaine_ _._ I’ve read the tabloids and seen the video clips. I know your type. And you and I are _nothing_ alike. I don’t want to be your groupie or roadie or whatever. I’m not even your fan. I didn’t enter this stupid contest that you’ve only agreed to do to inflate your ego. But I somehow got picked anyway. So I’m going to do us both a favor and get out of here and let you sweet-talk some poor, innocent, young fan who you can flirt with then bed then toss aside.”

 

When Kurt finishes he breathes deeply. He gives Blaine one hard, stern look, not even caring that he now has the attention of Blaine’s ensemble. He turns his head ready to step back inside the elevator but is stopped by Blaine’s hand on his arm.

 

“Wow. Bravo. I can see why you’re top of your classes. You’d make a tremendous dramatic actor. You know on stage, under the spotlight.” Blaine looks kind of reverent.

 

Kurt bites his lip in frustration. “You think I’m acting? And anyway how do you _even_ know that about me? What, are you stalking me? Famous or not that is _not_ allowed!”

 

“Hey. No.” Blaine even has the audacity to look chagrined. His voice is playful; he’s clearly the kind of character to make a lot of jokes. _Bad jokes._ “I’m too busy for that. I just got my people to contact your boss—”

 

“Isabelle?!” Kurt’s head begins to spin. He face palms himself. _What the—_

Blaine pushes back into Kurt’s space and gently rests both of his hands over Kurt’s arms. He squeezes his fingers so very lightly and the warmth from his touch seeps through Kurt’s clothes and into his skin.

 

“Hey” he says soft and quiet. “Let me explain. Properly. I’ll tell you everything. Just have dinner with me tonight, please? A car will come and collect you. Just please let me talk to you. Give me a chance?”

 

Kurt lets his hands fall from his face. When he looks at Blaine he actually finds the expression on his face to be rather endearing. _Don’t fall for this. Isabelle has got a lot of explaining to do. I knew she was up to something._

 

Blaine tilts his head to the side. His eyes are soft, his expression understanding and his smile so unfairly beautiful. “Don’t blame your boss. She’s a great lady. She cares a lot about you.”

 

 _Oh great, so he’s a mind reader too._  

 

Kurt opens his mouth. Closes it again. He inhales. Exhales. “What- why—”

 

“Tonight?” Blaine says again, shaking his head. His voice is a touch on the pleading side, his face soft and open and… _hopeful?_ “Don’t ask anymore questions; just say you’ll meet with me tonight?”

 

This morning Kurt had woken up ready for work as usual. He’d gotten dressed with expert care and effort. His journey to work had been pleasant, his coffee made and tasted exactly the way he likes it. At not one point did he ever think that his afternoon would end up like _this._

 

He stares at Blaine, and doesn’t even refrain from an exasperated sigh and a hard and heavy eye roll when Blaine turns on the puppy dog eyes.

 

Really, he doesn’t have anything to lose, by agreeing to what Blaine is asking of him. He can’t think of anything positive that he’ll gain from this either, but he can’t deny that he’s intrigued.

 

And there’s nothing that Kurt enjoys more than making the best out of a shitty situation.

 

Blaine is an international celebrity. His every move is watched. The guy’s career has spanned over ten years globally. Kurt has nothing to fear that anything seedy is going to happen. Somebody like Blaine would not give up what he has for somebody like… _Kurt._

A steely resolve settles in the pit of Kurt’s stomach and a deep unwavering gaze builds up in his eyes. Like lasers shooting straight at Blaine.

 

Kurt _could_ be somebody like Blaine. He’ll show him.

 

“Alright.”

 

“Alright?” Blaine repeats, his face alight.

 

“Alright” Kurt says again, his face passive, posture straight. “I assume you already know where to pick me up from.”

 

Blaine chews on his bottom lip, his eyes wide and sorrowful. It’s like he’s so used to getting what he wants that he doesn’t even realize the line between what’s right and wrong.

 

Despite himself Kurt actually lets out an exasperated breath of laughter. This whole thing is just too fucking crazy not to find just a little bit humorous.

 

“Don’t make me regret this” Kurt says before spinning on his heel and disappearing off into the elevator.

 

_Cause I’m sure as hell going to make YOU regret this, Blaine Anderson._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens…
> 
> Thanks for reading. You have all my love as always.


	3. Chapter 3

The moment that Kurt finally, _finally_ reaches his office back downstairs in the safe zone of his department, he swiftly and a little haphazardly clears up his days work from his desk and shuts down his computer.

 

He cannot leave the building any quicker if he tried.

 

Just the thought of Blaine being up there on the roof of Kurt’s work building, just hanging out there, sipping lemonade and terrorizing the Vogue staff; is driving Kurt crazy.

 

_Who does that asshole think he is? And Isabelle? Exactly what role is she playing in this shit-show of a game?_

Kurt doesn’t even bother to call or send a message to Isabelle; his devoted boss, his friend and confidant. He doesn’t even stay for the end of his shift in fear of Blaine wandering down to his office to come and find him.

 

If this is what Isabelle has had planned all along, to involve Kurt with Blaine and his scheming, then Kurt _knows_ that she’ll understand his sudden and hasty leave of absence this afternoon.

 

Depending on the results of tonight, he may not even show in the morning. It’s been a _long_ while since he’s played hooky.

 

This has become a game and Kurt is now a dedicated player. He’s not going to humour Isabelle by letting her know he’s on to her.

 

He’s going to play this game and he’s going to play it _well_.

 

*

 

He spends the rest of his afternoon sending and replying to work emails, tucked into the corner of a little internet café down the block from his apartment. His roommate, Tai doesn’t have any classes today so he’ll be taking up residence on their couch or at their tiny kitchen table with books and food cluttered everywhere.

 

Kurt likes Tai, they watch the same shows and share similar interests, he’s likes to eat out and go for walks and can keep himself to himself when he needs to, and that’s what has kept their friendship going the past two years they’ve lived together. However, Tai likes Kurt a hell of a lot and has declared them best friends since the day they met. Spending time with Kurt is always a bonus for Tai.

 

Kurt can’t quite bear the thought of sitting on his single bed in his shoebox room with just the four walls to look at, and he’s not quite in the mood for socializing with Tai who will no doubt have a million questions about his early arrival and his sour mood.

 

His phone buzzing and skittering across the small rounded table he’s sitting at disrupts him from gazing at his laptop. He scowls at the unidentified number as he thumbs open the notification.

 

**Be ready for 7, my driver will collect you from your door. Looking forward to seeing you again. B x**

He ignores and then deletes the messages and slams his phone down on the table with force. In fact, if Kurt wasn’t fond of his cell phone and needed it like he needed his right arm, he would have flung it to the other side of the coffee shop.

 

He’s well aware that not responding to Mr Anderson’s message will not do much in yet spur on Blaine’s eager excitement in this crazy web he’s trying to spin.

 

*

 

Kurt doesn’t leave the cafe until 6, and that’s only because its closing time and he is forced to leave. He walks home at a leisurely pace, more dawdling than anything and is pleased to find it has taken him almost 30 minutes to get home from a usual 5 minute journey.  

 

He’s a little disheartened to find that he has the apartment to himself when he opens the door. Tai works nights at a restaurant downtown and though Kurt is usually thankful for the peace he was kind of hoping for a distraction tonight.

 

Kurt always takes pride in his appearance and has known himself to spend many an hour preparing his face and body for leaving his apartment. Each item of clothing is usually chosen with precision and matches the other perfectly.

 

Tonight? Kurt could care less. He hops in and out of the shower; towel dries his hair and blasts it with some hairspray with just a slight teasing of his comb. He uses a spritz of cologne and swipes a pair of black skinny jeans from his closet, picks out a plain, deep purple shirt and after sliding into and lacing up a pair of doc martins, he’s ready.

 

Unfortunately for Kurt, he’s one of those types that looks good just rolling out of bed, or during a run on a particularly warm day. No matter what he wears or how he styles his hair, he can pull it off. With his creamy, clear complexion and long, slender body type there isn’t much that can stop Kurt from looking good.

 

Kurt gives his mirror one last look and a long, deep sigh before he trudges off to find something around the apartment to keep his mind distracted.

 

He could have easily said no to tonight. He knows that. He could have called or text or emailed Blaine back and told him _exactly_ what he could do and _where_ he could go with a few choice words and suggestions.

 

But Kurt would be lying if he said his interest wasn’t piqued. That’s why he stands in the hallway, back against the wall and staring at the doorway as if it’s said something to offend him.

 

There’s a knock on the door at 18.59. Kurt eventually answers the door at 19.04.

 

*

 

Downstairs on the street, there is a black limo, with tinted windows parked up on the curb. The rear passenger door is opened and held for him and Kurt hesitantly slides into the backseat.

 

“Good evening. You look wonderful.” Blaine says low and velvety. He’s sitting on Kurt’s right hand side, unbelievably close and smelling just as divine as he did earlier. He leans in a little more when Kurt still doesn’t turn to look at him. “You smell it too.”

 

Kurt chokes on air, leans away towards the window and when he finally turns to look, _gape,_ at Blaine he’s met with that too familiar grin.

 

Blaine’s eyes are trailing up and down Kurt’s body, his eyes dark and shimmering under the thin strips of white light covering each side of the limo’s ceiling. There is a definite look of approval on Blaine’s face.

 

To Kurt’s utmost disdain it looks as though he and Blaine are dressed very similarly this evening. Both in dark, eye catching jeans and simple but startling button down shirts. Blaine has his sleeves down and buttoned at the cuffs with a pair of sparkling cufflinks, though Kurt has chose to wear his sleeves rolled up messily to his elbows.

 

“Start talking.” Is all Kurt says when he feels the car pull off from the pavement and join the busy flow of New York City traffic. He narrows his eyes to look at Blaine with the most serious expression he can muster. He surprises himself by finding it a little difficult to stay focused. _God damn him and his good looks. Get your head in the game, Kurt._

Blaine laughs and holds his hands up either side of his head, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Whoa, don’t you want to get a drink with me first? Order an appetizer? I mean I could have my driver turn this thing around and head towards my—”

 

“Mr Anderson!” Kurt’s voice is full of authority but his head is really having a hard time keeping it together.

 

Blaine’s smile is so wide and bright, his eyes so warm and inviting. Everything about him is charming. He’s like a child; silly, annoying and irritating but somehow so adorable that he manages to crawl under your skin and peck away at you until you crack and fall in love with him.

 

 _Ok that was a bit much._ Well either way, not this time. Not with Kurt.

 

“I’ve given you this chance to explain to me exactly why the hell you know so much about me, what my boss has to do with it, and why you’re using up all of your time and effort on me when you could have anybody you want!? So, please use this time wisely, because if you don’t choose the right words by the time we get to the restaurant, I’m out of here!” Kurt finishes, actually rather delicately.

 

Blaine sits back, rubs his jaw with his hand and furrows his brow. His smile is still there though small and tight.

 

_Oh look at that, he’s actually listening and thinking about what somebody else has to say for once._

Blaine’s eyes flicker down to his shoes and back up to Kurt’s face, an expression crosses his face which looks a mixture of awe and uncertainty. _How curious, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so sheepish._

 

Kurt makes a show of glancing down at his watch. An eyebrow quirked.

 

That grin of his appears again as he looks at Kurt with a look more sure than it was before.

 

“I’ve already told you that I got my performing arts degree at NYU, like you.” Blaine begins quietly, “could we start there?” He asks, and his voice is so small and pitched so low that Kurt is very intrigued by him in this moment. By what he has to say, not intrigued by _him._

Kurt eyes Blaine suspiciously. He’s came this far, he _has_ to find out where this all came from and where Blaine intends it to go. He _must_.

“Like I said, you have until we get there to make your pitch, then I’ll decide if I want to hear the rest.”

 

Blaine nods, showing his understanding of Kurt’s statement. He grins again and Kurt just knows that he’s about to say something annoying.

 

“What if I kind of feed you clues and you pick them up and fill in the gaps?” He sounds so excited by his own ridiculous idea. “Kind of like Hansel and Gretel?”

 

Kurt rolls his eyes completely uncaring that Blaine is sitting just inches away from him and is watching his every move. “Must you?” _Can’t you just fucking tell me, like a proper adult?_

“It’ll be fun” Blaine nods, and grins so hard that Kurt thinks his face may split into two. “Ok, so last Spring I was invited to attend a talent mixer at—”

 

“My school.” Kurt finishes for him, stilling. His face pales.

 

Blaine claps his hands together. “Well done. One point to you. I knew you’d pick up this game fast and find it fun.”

 

Kurt scratches a hand through his hair. He _knows_ where this is going.

 

“There were all kinds of extraordinary talents there but there was this one young man who really caught my eye. He sung—”

 

“—I have Nothing by Whitney Houston.” Kurt mutters. “Ok I get it, you saw me. What now? Why all of this?”

 

Blaine pouts playfully. “Don’t ruin the game, Kurt. There’s more.”

 

Kurt inhales deeply. Counts to 5.

 

“Because of my celebrity status and experience on stage and screen, I was asked to commentate on the acts but to do so anonymously so that there wouldn’t be any hurt feelings.”

 

Kurt feels suddenly drained of all the blood in his face and of all emotion. His heart thumps wildly behind his ribcage. He knows _exactly_ where this is going.

 

Blaine continues blabbering, oblivious to the realization springing upon Kurt. “It was kind of a like a silent—”

 

“Auction. Yeah I remember” Kurt snaps. “I remember getting the highest rated comment and on the back of the card the compliment was so very…” Kurt blushes and trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

 

Blaine hums knowingly, “you were amazing. You looked it too and when I asked about you, I heard that you design your own clothes. Wow!”

 

“You asked to meet me.” Kurt says quietly, he’s finding it hard to look at Blaine now. “On the back of the card you left an unidentified email address and asked me to contact you.”

 

“You didn’t.” Blaine nods, eyes flashing. “Why?” He breathes, “It made me so very sad.”

 

Kurt gawks at him, voice rising in pitch. “The card didn’t say who it was from. How the hell was I supposed to you know it was _you._ ”

 

“Would you have been interested if you did know?” Blaine asks quietly, and the tone and pitch of his voice is one that Kurt can’t quite place. It’s as if those words have really taken some effort for Blaine to say.

 

“I _was_.” Kurt whispers, squeezing his eyes closed and shaking his head like he can’t quite believe what he is saying. “I was interested in you. I loved every show and every song you sung. Every TV program you starred in, I taped. I _idolized_ you, Blaine.” Kurt gulps hard and swallows down whatever else he was going to say.

 

He can’t believe that he’s been exposed this way. He opens his eyes again, hard and angry, almost lifeless.

 

“What changed?” Blaine asks him but he’s not bold and bright and bigheaded. He’s quiet and hunched in on himself, his eyes hollow and sad.

 

“You did.” Kurt mumbles. He twines his fingers together in his lap and forces himself not to look up at Blaine until he’s finished speaking. “You were in a dressing room behind the stage and after the show had ended and the crowds had left and the staff were cleaning up, I snuck down the hall and knocked on your door. I called your name and knocked again. You didn’t answer—”

 

Blaine’s hand is suddenly resting on top of both of Kurt’s. “Kurt—

”

 

“I opened the door just a crack and you appeared, half naked, a bottle of vodka in your hands and told me to go away—”

 

“Kurt, you need to understand—” 

 

“There was somebody else in that room with you, though I couldn’t see clearly—”

 

“Kurt- I—”

 

“I defended you back then. I didn’t think you were anything like any of those other sleazy—”

 

Suddenly the car jerks to a stop, and the intercom above their heads crackles to life. “Sir, we have arrived. Should I come and open your door, sir?” The driver’s voice says friendly and airy and completely oblivious to what’s happening in the back of the car.

 

Blaine’s hand, warm and a little heavy on top of Kurt’s, stays right where it is. His fingers push down a little onto Kurt’s, a hopeless attempt at a reassuring squeeze. He ducks his chin and tries to gain eye contact with Kurt.

 

When Kurt looks at him, Blaine’s eyes are open and raw with emotion. He’s begging and pleading, he’s apologizing. His face is etched with guilt and hope and so much more, all at once.

 

“Will you come to dinner with me?” He whispers. Another squeeze. “Will you hear me out, please? I promise I won’t contact you again if you don’t want me to, after this.”

 

_Shit…_

 

*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I wanted you guys to have this. I know that some of you were a little…worried after the last chapter but hopefully after this your minds will be now at ease. 
> 
> I will forewarn any chapters if I need to, but this is not an angsty fic. My Blaine in this story is supposed to be presented in this jerky kind of fame-hungry way, but he’s not a bad guy. My Blaine’s never are. Trust me, all will be revealed in good time.
> 
> It’s a story of dislikes, people changing their minds…and hearts, non-friends to friends and to then possibly more? A rom/com of sorts. Thank youyou’re your support so far. I hope you continue to read, review and enjoy. 
> 
> P.S I will be updating asap, the story is almost completed and will run to around 8 chapters?!

“The other person you saw in that dressing room with me was my old manager.” Blaine begins as soon as their waiter has poured them their drinks and leaves them be.

 

They’re seated in a private secluded booth towards the back of the restaurant near the kitchen. There are sounds of distant clattering and sizzling and muffled orders being tossed back and forth. Kurt doesn’t even know where they are. They were ushered into the side entrance of a building covered with vine leaves and lead straight in to a fancy room with four separate booths in each corner divided by a plush, plum velvet curtain. Either they’re alone in here or the curtains must be pretty sound proof—Kurt can’t hear a thing.

 

He can tell that Blaine is known here, he must be a regular. The manager greeted him warmly but didn’t ask any invasive questions. Blaine spoke to him about his family and then addressed their server by name and asked how things were running in the kitchen tonight.

 

Kurt can only imagine that this place is suave and upper class, they don’t even have menus to look at, and wine and water was automatically brought to their table and served to them on arrival. Kurt didn’t get a say in the matter. Not that he thinks he’d have much to say anyway, his mouth feels dry and his throat tight. He still can’t comprehend where he is right now and who he’s with and what conversation they’re having.

 

Kurt takes a sip from his wine glass. The taste feels a little sour on his tongue, he’s not used to drinking but he swallows it down anyway, knowing that he may need a little extra courage. He’s 21, he’s allowed to drink alcohol he just hasn’t had much cause for it. He doesn’t do the usual college parties like everyone else his age. He’s much too busy focusing on his goals and dreams and ticking them off one by one.

 

Kurt gives Blaine a patient look and one of his trademark eyebrow quirks, signalling him to continue. Blaine looks nervous, he’s already took several gulps from his wine glass and drained his water glass. He rubs his hands against his knees under the table.

 

“I um- I have new management now. I didn’t like the way they represented me. The way that they wanted me to act or just _be_.” He pauses to give Kurt time to respond but Kurt only nods and waits. “When I was asked to attend that mixer at your school, I was so psyched about it. It’s something that meant a lot to me. I felt like I could give back to something that gave a lot to me that helped me get to where I am now.”

 

Kurt’s face softens a little and he takes another eager sip from his glass. _This_ is the Blaine that he remembers, the Blaine he was a big fan of. The Blaine he thought he could relate to, from one artist to another.

 

Blaine huffs out a bitter laugh before he continues, unwanted memories obviously returning to him. “They watched my every move that night. They wouldn’t let me come and mingle with the students, you know to give my advice or praise or encouragement—the reason why I thought I was there in the first place. And I was so mad because I wanted to come and meet _you_ and talk to you and tell you how impressed I was with what I seen you do up on that stage.”

 

Kurt blushes no matter how much he hates himself for it. Kurt back _then_ would have died just hearing Blaine Anderson say those words about him. Now, he finds it a difficult pill to swallow.

 

Blaine smiles a little, noticing Kurt’s flushed cheeks and wide bright eyes. “After the show, I was pissed at them because I thought you had gone and they made me go back to my dressing room to change for leaving. They wouldn’t let me acknowledge or encourage a local, genuine talent like yourself. You hadn’t responded to my email I left on the comment card and I just felt so…like I was a robot you know? Hollow. Some machine for them to control and for people to look at and get enjoyment from.” His voice deepens and lowers a little, his eyes harden and his irises deepen to a dark chocolate.

 

Kurt can see how sincere Blaine is right now, there’s no mask or other role to play here. It’s just Blaine wide open and… _broken_?

 

Suddenly Blaine perks up and takes another drink. “It was a low point, I’ll admit. I started drinking too much and partying too hard. But it’s over now, I have more control over my life and career choices and I’m happy.” He smiles and it’s so wide and bright, his eyes crinkling at the corners that Kurt can’t help but feel happy for him.

 

“I’m glad for you, Blaine. Really. I cant imagine what it must have felt like for you back then,” Kurt says truthfully, his voice soft, “but um- the rest of the story- the part where I come in?”

 

“Right yes, of course.” Blaine snaps back to attention, fully focused and Kurt can see where all of those awards and nominations have come from over the years. Blaine is so expressive, he can tell a _whole_ story without even speaking. “So I’m back in the dressing room, I’m changing and I pick up a complimentary bottle of vodka to mix with a little tonic. My manager comes in and behind him are four girls. _Students.”_

_Oh, no…_

“I mean it was nothing like that, they were 21 and I’m only 28. But you know…I’m gay. Open and proud. And I’m never looking for anything like that especially with a fan.” Kurt feels his stomach drop but he can’t quite figure out why. He doesn’t want Blaine Anderson like that and he certainly doesn’t want Blaine to want _him_ like that. Does he?

 

_Do you?_

 

When he gathers his wits and looks back at Blaine, Blaine is staring at him so curiously, so…reverently? Blaine shakes away what ever thought he was having and continues. “The press know of my sexuality, my fans know and have been very positive and supportive but my management were still trying to push the whole teenage heart throb routine on me. Something that I do not care about or want to promote. It just happens, people just think that of me.”

 

“Blaine, I’m sorry. That’s so not fair for you—”

 

Blaine nods politely but waves Kurt off, he clearly needs to finish his tirade. “So I asked them to leave, politely. And they kept knocking and coming back.”

 

A wave of guilt comes across Kurt, then. He must have been one of those annoying fans turning up at Blaine’s door when the guy just needed 5 minutes peace.

 

“No.” Blaine says suddenly, rather urgently. He’s looking right at Kurt, determinedly. His hands are back on top of the table and he looks like he’s about to reach out and take Kurt’s hands in his. “I know what you’re thinking, but no. I would have loved to have met you. To discuss with you options about your future. To tell you that _I_ was a _fan_ of yours. The things that inspiring drama kids need to hear. Those girls? They were there for something else. Something that is not me or my lifestyle no matter how much it is portrayed that way in the press.”

 

Kurt sits back in his seat, a little awestruck. He thinks back to that night when his dreams were shattered and his idol became a stranger. Blaine looked so frantic and frustrated in the doorway, he wasn’t even looking at Kurt. His eyes may have even been squeezed shut. His voice was a little rough and the bottle of vodka in his hand actually hadn’t been opened, it was full to the top. He was wearing socks and pants and his shirt was still there, just unbuttoned with one arm hanging out of the sleeve. –He was just changing, like regular guys should be allowed to. Not stripping to have sex in a school like what Kurt had first assumed of him.

 

Blaine regards Kurt carefully, watches the thought process whirl through Kurt’s mind like a freight train. He leans in and whispers, “Hey, you remember what I said to you on the rooftop earlier today? Never to believe everything you read and see—”

 

Kurt bites his lip. “Yeah, and I would say I agree with you in most cases but I was standing there that night with my own two eyes and ears. It’s kind of hard not to believe what you can _actually_ see and hear.”

 

Blaine gives him a sad look. “That wasn’t me. Your memory and mind have taken all of the bad snippets that the press have given you and when you saw me for real it was sadly somebody else you had perceived.”

 

A throat is cleared and then the curtain is parted. Their server sweeps in and places two plates of salad down in front of them. He refills their wine and water glasses before leaving promptly.

 

Blaine doesn’t look anywhere but at Kurt’s face. “Do you believe me, Kurt?” He asks, gentle as if frightened that Kurt may flee.

 

Kurt thinks about it. He has no reason to believe Blaine. There’s no evidence behind what he’s saying to back it up. But on the other hand he still has no reason not to believe him. Why would Blaine go to all of this trouble just to set something straight that really didn’t need to set straight?

 

Looking at Blaine now, Kurt can see that he really does care. For what reason is beyond Kurt but then sincerity is there.  And Kurt wants to understand why? He feels grateful and relieved to have heard all that he’s been told tonight.

 

But he wants more.

 

Kurt picks up his salad fork and with a quick nod he spears at a piece of aubergine, a sly grin appearing just before he places the fork to his mouth. “Ok, you got me. But you’re not off the hook yet, Mr Anderson.”

 

He looks up just in time to see the most wondrous grin on Blaine’s face, even better than any of all the other smiles he’s already experienced. Kurt feels a weird twitch in his stomach, it almost feels like…satisfaction?

 

Blaine picks up a wedge of avocado and nibbles at daintily between his fingers. His eyes are sparkling. He’s delighted. “Anything, Kurt. Now that we have that cleared up and you can like me again, what do you want to know?”

 

Kurt can’t stop his smirk. Blaine has gone from wounded to excited puppy in less than a minute.

 

_What am I doing? …Maybe just go with it…_

 

“Let’s go back to where we began with this. How did you and Isabelle get to this- this conspiring against me?”

 

“Now, now Kurt. I wouldn’t call date setting conspiring—”

 

Kurt almost chokes on his salad. “D-date?”

 

“Is it not?”

 

“Are- are you interested in- that?”

 

Blaine’s eyes are smouldering “Are you not?”

 

_Holy hell…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing guys.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt feels a little silly that he hasn’t realized it sooner. But it hits him like a ton of bricks.

 

The summer fashion show last year that Isabelle had attended (that Kurt could not because he had assignments to finish off and hand in under a strict deadline) is where she met and apparently liaised with Blaine Anderson.

 

Kurt realizes this during their main course of pan seared Salmon, when Blaine is telling him about the catwalk he ambushed, and that’s when he was offered his current Dior for men contract. It figures.  

 

 _Those billboard ads are to die for—_ But he’s not about to tell Blaine that.

 

“So you and Isabelle met, you talked, how on earth did you get around to talking about me? You wouldn’t have known that I worked with her—”

 

Blaine smiles at Kurt closed lipped as he chews his current mouthful and reaches for his water glass. Their booth is only lit by a single candle sconce hanging on the wall behind them and the shadows casting across Blaine’s face highlights every facial expression he makes. His eyes are lit up and Kurt realizes that there is a subtle difference to the way Blaine looks tonight as opposed to the way he usually looks at movie premiers and TV interviews and others things of the like that he’s obligated to attend.

 

Tonight he looks relaxed, unguarded…happy. _Probably because he’s getting what he wants—_

 

“Well, I asked about her line of work. She asked me about my upbringing, where I graduated…it was a series of questions from both parties, really, that simply lead to one answer. Well an answer for _me_ anyway. _You._ ” Blaine replies smoothly.

 

Blaine’s smug grin returns, and Kurt is just dumbfounded. “Me? You really remembered some student who sung one song at a stupid college talent show months before? I was the first thing that came to your mind during your conversation with some stranger at a fashion show?”

 

“It’s not stupid. I did one of those when I was a student there.” Blaine looks a little affronted but Kurt finds it a little funny. “And yes, I already told you I was impressed by you… by _all_ of you. You left a fine, ever-lasting print on my memory.”

 

“I thought you don’t go _there_ with fans.”

 

“Ah, but you weren’t a fan—”

 

“You didn’t know that—”

 

“But you’re a fan now?”

 

“Don’t change the subject.”

 

They smile at each other, Blaine’s a little more enthusiastic than Kurt’s, and both reach for their wine glasses.

 

Kurt is surprised to find he’s rather enjoying the taste of a crisp white Chianti; it bubbles across his tongue and mixes extremely well with the meal they’re eating, which is of course outstanding. 

“So, the whole thing was a set up?” Kurt says after a pause. “You got talking with Isabelle, realized she was my boss and that I was the guy from the talent thing and you two set up that whole Vogue meet and greet charade?”

 

_I wasn’t getting out of that no matter how hard I tried. The whole thing was created for me! Holy shit!_

 

“Ta-da.” Blaine sings, smiling immaculately. “Impressed?”

 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kurt replies bluntly, a bored looking expression on his face; though it doesn’t deter Blaine, Kurt’s not sure that there is anything that would ever be successful in deterring Blaine and taking him down a peg or two.

 

Kurt must admit that he actually _is_ a little impressed with Isabelle’s dedication to this whole thing. How did she pull it off? “What did Isabelle actually say to you about me that was the hook?” Kurt blurts out, though, not quite knowing if he actually _wants_ to know the truth or not.

 

Blaine glances up at him from beneath his naturally long, curling lashes, all dark and feathered out. He raises his chin and neatly places his cutlery to the side of his plate, dabs at the corner of his mouth with a linen napkin.

 

“When I realized it was _you_ as in the guy from the NYU mixer, I started asking more questions; aaannd Isabelle gave me a bunch of interesting answers.” His eyes are twinkling.

 

Kurt does his best not to huff out a frustrated groan. Blaine just can’t get to the point; it’s all games with him. Fortunately for Kurt he’s clever and gets to the end of the puzzle just a little bit before Blaine. And Kurt will not let anything go without being the last one standing.

 

“Ok, so you know that I _was_ a fan. She told you that. Big deal. It only really just makes you a hypocrite because you said earlier that you don’t go “there” with fans. And you knew I was a fan even though I claimed that I wasn’t because surely Isabelle would have told you that I stopped liking you—”

 

Kurt is interrupted from his ramble by Blaine giggling, loud and watery. It’s probably one of the most adorable, infectious sounds that Kurt has ever heard. He starts to smile and immediately regrets it but can’t stop himself.

 

Blaine keeps chuckling high pitched and airily, his eyes glaze over and start to slip closed; his teeth are gleaming, dimples out, smile almost reaching his eyes. Kurt doesn’t know if he’s ever seen _this_ smile on any magazine spread before. It looks too real, too natural. Something that can’t be faked.

 

“Wh-what?” Kurt asks a little shyly, shaking his head.

 

“Just…you.” Blaine replies instantly. “You are _so interesting_ to me. I find you… wonderfully surprising.” He says this with such conviction that Kurt momentarily forgets how to breathe.

 

_But I’m just…me._

“But-but I- you—”

 

“Kurt.” Blaine interrupts, a hand stretched across the table. His thumb brushes against the bone of Kurt’s wrist. “Don’t over-think this, please.” For a moment, Blaine’s perfect smile slips and he looks a little lost in his own thoughts. “Why do you doubt yourself so much? Why do you find it so hard to believe that somebody likes you?”

 

“Be-because… You’re _you_ and I’m _me_ and you could have anybody you wan—”

 

“You have _got_ to stop saying that.” Blaine sighs while leaning back in his chair. He rolls his eyes in a way that could rival Kurt’s prestigious eye-roll. “Look, I don’t know how or why I know this, but you’re just different. You appeal to me. Your voice spoke- _sang_ out to me and resonated somewhere deep within and I want to learn more of your hidden talents.”

 

“Isn’t that a script from one of your plays or movies?” Kurt asks with a smirk.

 

Now it’s Blaine’s turn to look exasperated. “Kurt! I gave you my card with my personal number and email. You did nothing. I texted you on my personal number. You didn’t text me back. I’ve shown nothing but interest in you and you’ve been batting me off with every chance you get.” Blaine says all of this honestly but he’s still smiling; and Kurt recognises the shimmer in his eyes, he’s _impressed._

Blaine tilts his head to the side and lowers his voice. “I like it. I like that you don’t fall at my feet. You’re not here because of who I am or what I can give to you—”

 

“—you’re right, I’m here against my will” Kurt responds, nodding his head a little too enthusiastically. His eyes are wide and playful, a teasing lift to his lips.

 

Blaine’s jaw drops comically, his eyes large like dinner plates. “I’m kidding,” Kurt laughs, hands held up in surrender. Blaine relaxes back in his seat.

 

“You should know that I like a challenge” he murmurs, smiling as he brings his wine glass to his lips.

 

“Oh that has definitely been noted” Kurt says picking up his glass and making the wine swirl around like he’s seen people do on TV. “I mean you’re probably the only person I know who would continue to go after somebody who you know dislikes you.”

 

“Oh, Kurt. There is a fine, fine line between love and hate.”

 

“I didn’t even use _that_ word” Kurt scowls.

 

“Ah, so you admit it.”

 

“Admit what?” Kurt exclaims.

 

Their server suddenly sweeps back in and clears the table. Their eyes remain locked on to each other’s. When he’s gone, Blaine leans back in. “Before, when you were talking about why I would be interested in you. You said it as though you were interested in me too but didn’t think there would be a possibility of that?”

 

Kurt scoffs. He knows where Blaine is going with this. But, instead of giving Blaine an answer and probably not the one he’s looking for, Kurt leans in too, arms crossed in front of him on the table.

 

“Can I be honest with you?” Kurt hushes himself to an almost whisper, rasped and wet.

 

“I’d love that.” Blaine beams, licking his lips.

 

“You’re still…kind of a douche.” He sits up straight grinning to himself happily. Blaine stays where he is, hunched over the table towards Kurt. His eyes are narrowed and his grin is still there. There’s not a lot that could deflate _his_ ego. Kurt knows this but he likes to try.

 

“And?” Blaine responds smartly, eyes lashes fluttering.

 

“Well, you’ve been very forthcoming and honest. You’ve told me about the role you have to play in this showbiz life. You’ve successfully managed to keep me here, actively listening. But you know, you- sometimes you say things that make you sound like the jerk that you insist that you’re not—”

 

“Is jerk the right word?” Blaine makes a think-y face. “I think that it’s just the way you interpret me. Others may refer to me as mischievous and light-hearted. A playful rascal, a scallywag—”

 

“Alright, alright.” Kurt shushes him, regretting that he even said anything in the first place. Blaine winks and flashes a knowing, good-humored grin.

 

“Kurt, I told you that this kind of life requires a character that you slip in to. I didn’t say that I don’t _do_ it. Just that it’s not always enjoyable. Look at it like a kind of barrier, a defence mechanism to keep the crazies away from knowing the real me.”

 

“But you said that you _wanted_ me to know the real you?”

 

“Are you a crazy?” Blaine’s fakes a look of shock followed by a ridiculous, audible gasp.

 

_Something about me must be to still be here and having this conversation with you._

The curtain surrounding them is whipped back once again and one very generously sized, heart shaped china dish is placed on the center of the table between them. Along with two spoons.

 

Kurt looks at it curiously. It looks like chocolate pudding with grated, chocolate flakes sprinkled over the top. It’s much bigger and not at all what he had expected for desert at this place. Their previous dishes had been miniscule compared to this and more tidy and well decorated. And there had been _two_ of them—one each.

 

“Mocha Pots De Crème.” Blaine whispers to him, his tongue appearing to tickle the words as they roll off and passed his lips. “Isabelle told me about your sweet tooth. I had this made for us.” He picks up a spoon and holds it out to Kurt expectantly for Kurt to take.

 

Only, Kurt hesitates and eyes him and the spoon suspiciously.

 

This would be his perfect exit. He’s heard all that he needs to hear—the whole reason why he came tonight. His mission is complete and he’s fairly happy with the way he has handled the enigmatic Mr Anderson, tonight.

 

But something is keeping him in his seat. Is it the chocolate or is it Blaine?

 

“Come on,” Blaine whispers, he takes the spoon and dips it in to the desert before holding it out towards Kurt’s lips. “Take a chance on me. Another one. Please.”


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt clocks up this current moment in time to be one of the most surreal moments that has ever occurred in his life. There’s no other way to deal with it, really.

 

He’s sitting in a secluded booth in a Michelin star, New York restaurant where the reservation list is probably fully booked for months on end; and Blaine Anderson, _star of stage and screen, utterly gorgeous, Blaine Anderson,_ is spoon feeding him chocolate pudding.

 

They stare at each other, Blaine smiling and Kurt looking completely lost. He only allows Blaine to feed him two more spoonfuls before his head comes back into play and takes control. _What is actually happening here?_

There’s a strange feeling in his gut, building and tingling and Kurt _cannot_ blame it on the fact that it’s just because he’s ate too much. Even he is not that obtuse—not in this case.

 

Blaine takes a mouthful for himself before setting the spoon down on the edge of the dish. He picks up the wine bottle to find it practically empty and frowns. “Would you like me to order us some more wine? Coffee perhaps or a night cap?” He looks at Kurt eagerly.

 

Kurt still looks a little dumbfounded, lost in the bizarreness of this entire night. “Oh- um no, actually. Thank you, but no. I should- I should be leaving. I mean I have classes and work tomorrow so—”

 

An uncomfortable feeling washes over Kurt. He feels kind of inferior and childlike. Blaine Anderson is sitting opposite him offering wine and probably anything that Kurt would ask of him and here Kurt is rejecting him because he has school the next day.

 

Blaine looks a little disappointed but he nods agreeably anyway. “Oh of course, I understand. My car will be outside; I’m ready when you are.”

 

“Don’t we have to pay—”

 

“Yes _I_ do have to pay; I’m not about stealing good food and wine, Kurt. You don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” He winks and Kurt rolls his eyes. “I’ve signed an open cheque, they’ll bill me what they need to.” He adds nonchalantly and stands from the table.

 

 _Just like that, huh? He really is the man who has the world at his feet. Yet here he…with me._ Kurt doesn’t have the energy to protest. He knows that there is no point offering up his measly twenty bucks that’s folded up in his wallet.

While Kurt sits self doubting himself, Blaine has come over to his side of the booth and is hovering over him with a hand outstretched and a charming smile. 

 

Obligingly, Kurt puts his hand in Blaine’s and allows himself to be pulled up. Only, when he stands Blaine doesn’t step back and Kurt finds himself once again exceptionally close to Mr Anderson.

 

Blaine’s eyes are glossy, his smile warm and he’s so close that his shallow breaths are reaching Kurt’s ear and tickling the hairs on the nape of his neck. He smells like expensive cologne, wine and mint. A tantalising combination that Kurt momentarily wishes he could taste and touch. _Whoa!_

“Thank you, Kurt” Blaine murmurs huskily, “for having dinner with me, for listening to me, for understanding and for just being… _you._ ” 

 

Kurt finds himself once again speechless. His breath whooshes out of him when he eventually does open his mouth to try and think of something to say.

 

Blaine parts his lips, tilts his head and for a split second, unknowingly, Kurt copies him. He blinks his eyes closed, leans in and—

 

“Shall we?” Blaine steps back. Kurt’s hand is still firmly entwined with his, he tugs Kurt forward and tucks his hand into the crook of his elbow as he steps towards the curtain and pulls it open.

 

Kurt stumbles forward with him, startled. Was he really just going to _kiss_ Blaine Anderson?

 

_Was Blaine going to kiss me? Was I actually going to let him?_

Once back in the limo, safe and unseen; the driver pulls off automatically without word from Blaine. A part of Kurt hopes that Blaine is taking him home. And part of him _doesn’t._

The journey back from the restaurant is quiet. The driver is listening to something classical upfront and Blaine pushes a button on a control pad on his armrest and the music begins to flow soothingly around them.

 

Blaine is sitting close to Kurt, their thighs brushing. He has a hand on his lap and Kurt can tell by the restlessness of his fingers and the bobbing of his knee that Blaine wants to pull Kurt’s hand over into his also.

 

There’s something unnerving and also very lovely about the atmosphere of the night and the vibes that Blaine is giving off. It’s almost like he’s nervous, like he needs to impress. _Whatever for?_

 

After a short while Kurt comes to the realization that Blaine is actually not about to say anything. It’s very odd. Kurt has to know what’s next. How is this going to end between them? Is Blaine satisfied now, has he got what he wanted from Kurt? 

 

He licks his lips and slowly turns his head to glance at Blaine. Blaine’s head is lowered, his eyes staring at the carpeted flooring of the limousine.  He isn’t oozing his trademark charm as usual. It’s a little unsettling.

 

“So” Kurt finally manages on a rush of air. “I did what you asked; I took a chance on you like you said—”

 

“Did it pay off?” Blaine suddenly turns to him. His voice is a little high and squeaky and his irises are burning brightly, alight with hope and desire. It takes Kurt by surprise.

 

“Huh?”

 

“The chance that you took. Did it pay off? Was it what you expected?”

 

_It was…more._

“I um- Blaine I don’t know what you want me to say, this is all so surreal for me.” Blaine nods once and looks away, staring off out of the window a little pensively. He glances back at Kurt cautiously, looking like he wants- _needs_ to say something.

 

“What is it?” Kurt mumbles, eying Blaine curiously. Blaine shakes his head and turns away. Kurt straightens in his seat and folds his arms across his chest.

 

It’s not long before Blaine turns to him again and goes against his better judgement and takes Kurt’s hand tightly within both of his. His eyes are pleading, his voice soft, a little shaky but sincere enough. “Kurt, I- you don’t want this, you’re just a kid. I’m sorry that I ever tried to get involved with you. You don’t deserve this. My life is insane.”

 

Slowly, Kurt twists his body all of the way to face Blaine completely. His is face open and soft. His arms go lax and his hands feel heavy in Blaine’s. Stupidly the only thing he can think to say is “I’m not a kid. I’m 21.”

 

Blaine smiles— it’s small and not as hearty as it usually is but it’s there and it’s the first time that he’s smiled since getting back into the car. Kurt finds it oddly reassuring.   

 

Kurt clears his throat. His head feels too heavy for his shoulders, his mind fuzzy, and his heart is beating fast.

 

He thinks about his life, his current circumstances and situation. He has a nice apartment, a roommate that he can’t complain about. A job that he loves, classes that he’s acing, in one of the best schools in the city—the city that he loves and worked so hard to get to.

 

Most young people his age would kill to be where he is right now and have what he has. So why does he still feel so…unaccomplished? Empty? Not quite right?

 

Thoughts come to him, pin-wheeling out of nowhere, fast and sudden. Words to match those thoughts and the feelings he’s having form and build, and climb up his throat and sit on his tongue bravely.

 

“I- I think that _this_ —whatever this is—is maybe exactly what I’m looking for.”

 

Blaine stares at Kurt, unbelieving. His mouth a little ajar and the expression on his face is so hilarious and aghast that Kurt has to laugh despite the seriousness of the situation.

 

Eventually Blaine turns away and when he looks back not 5 seconds later he’s grinning, closed lipped through one corner of his mouth. He closes one eye and gives Kurt the dorkiest look that has Kurt laughing all over again. “Really? You’ll see me again? You’ll let me call you, or text and you’ll _actually_ text back?” Blaine asks excitedly.

 

Kurt gulps down the question he’s dying to ask. _Why? Why do you want to?_

 

Instead he grins, shrugs and then nods. He doesn’t want to say goodbye to Blaine until he has at least spoken to Isabelle and got her side of the story. At least, that’s what he’s telling himself.

 

“What’s _one more chance_ gonna do, huh?” Kurt replies teasingly, with a flirtatious tone he didn’t even know he possessed.

 

Blaine turns away laughing, Kurt’s hand still held carefully against his own. He leans over Kurt and pushes the window button until the glass has come all the way down with a light hum.

 

Kurt smiles as the city is unveiled from behind the dark, tinted glass. New York is beautiful at night. All bright lights and fast paced movements from all areas.

 

Blaine laughs as the cool air rushes in and hits his face. He’s like a dog hanging out of the window—loving life and Kurt half expects him to howl into the night like a victory call.

 

Except what Blaine does instead completely takes him by surprise.

 

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world!” Blaine shouts at the city as it passes by their fast moving vehicle. He pulls his head back in and beams at Kurt like he’s just given Blaine the cure to cancer.

 

Kurt cannot do anything but gape at Blaine, astounded, and laugh breathily as he enjoys the rest of the ride of home.

 

*

 

The next morning, Kurt opens his bedroom doors and finds Tai standing in front of him; his face pale, eyes wide.

 

Kurt rubs the sleep out of his eyes and yawns and stretches. He scratches a hand through his already messy, bed-matted hair.

 

“Hey, Tai…you ok?” He croaks, trying to nudge Tai out of the way to get to the kitchen when the coffee machine will hopefully already be turned on.

 

Tai nods silently and slowly steps out of the way to reveal their front room.

 

Kurt blinks once, twice and rubs at his eyes again.

 

Blaine is sitting on their couch—dressed in an impeccable dove gray suit with a bouquet of red and yellow roses in his hand.

 

“Good morning, Kurt.” He says brightly, standing when he notices Kurt gawking at him from across the room. “I was thinking breakfast then I’ll drop you off on campus after. What do you say?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

“Blaine? What the hell!” Kurt exclaims as soon as his bedroom door is closed behind them. He lets go of Blaine’s arm and nudges him out of the way towards his desk, indicating for him to sit.

 

Blaine sits down in Kurt’s desk chair sullenly like a toddler being sent to the time-out zone and pats out the creases of his suit jacket made by Kurt’s fingers. “I wanted to see you” he whines, widening his eyes for effect. “I know this great little place that does the most amazing Eggs Benedict and it’s not too far from NYU—”

 

“Blaine- oh my god- just sshh!” Kurt groans, his fingers rubbing at his temples. It’s still too god-awful early for any of this—especially without the aid of caffeine.

 

Blaine looks all around the room and whistles. “So here it is; Kurt Hummel’s room. Where the magic happens.”

 

“Oh dear lord. Just shut up.” Kurt grunts. It doesn’t even occur to him that he’s only dressed in a pair of pale blue sleep shorts and a black tank top, with his hair a riot on top of his head; and that Blaine Anderson is sitting in his bedroom just taking it all in.

 

Until of course Blaine points it out.

 

“Would you mind if I told you how lovely you look right now” Blaine drawls. He tries to stand up but Kurt stops him with a firm point of his finger.

 

“Yes I would mind. Oh my god, Blaine. You can’t just do this.”

 

“What?”

 

“This! Come to my apartment unexpected and _uninvited._ I only agreed to further contact with you just last night—”

 

“You left me in the limo last night so suddenly with barely a goodbye. I missed you” says Blaine, even having the nerve to pout.

 

 _He’s actually fucking pouting._ _The gorgeous bastard._

“Blaine, my roommate doesn’t know anything about you and you just turn up on our doorstep and—”

 

“Yeah about him,” Blaine scowls a little. “He was asking too many questions. Does he like you? I mean _like-_ like you?”

 

Kurt’s heart speeds up…just a little. _Oh!_ A little appearance from the green-eyed monster…maybe?

Kurt stumbles over to the edge of his bed and drops down. He sighs and covers his face with his hands. “Jesus” He mumbles against his fingers. “You are a famous actor. Tai has watched all of your movies, no wonder he’s asking you lots of fucking questions when you’re knocking on his door with a fucking massive bouquet of roses in your hands.”

 

“You know, you’re hot when you curse” Blaine says lowly, “and the flowers aren’t for _him_ —Tay or whatever.” He holds the bouquet out to Kurt. “Here, by the way. Get them in some water before they begin to wilt.”

 

Kurt drops his hands and looks over at Blaine incredulously. He can’t even muster up any coherent thought or anything to say. He needs coffee and he needs to get out of this room immediately.

 

He stands, rips the flowers out of Blaine’s hands and marches over to the door. Once in the kitchen he fills the sink with a few drops of water and dumps the roses inside before turning towards the coffee machine.

 

He chooses to ignore Tai who is standing against the far counter with a mug in his hands and a completely bewildered expression on his face. His navy striped PJ’s (bless his heart) are crinkled and one leg is rolled up too high towards his knee.

 

Kurt gives him a look which perfectly reads ‘do not say anything, pretty please’ and Tai being Tai nods sweetly and shuffles off towards his bedroom in silence. Kurt will explain everything to him that he needs to later when Blaine will hopefully not be around.

 

Kurt’s eyes slip closed and he inhales deeply from his mug once he’s poured in some dark, strong scented liquid. He takes a few sips and it’s only a few moments until he hears footsteps approach from his room.

 

A throat is cleared. “The place with the eggs does great coffee you know?” Blaine says quietly from behind Kurt.

 

Kurt clenches his fingers around the ceramic mug and takes comfort in the warmth that seeps through into his skin. He takes in a few steadying breaths and exhales slowly. Downing the rest of his coffee, he places the mug on the counter and turns around to face Blaine; his arms wrapped around himself.

 

Blaine has taken his jacket off and has it casually draped over one shoulder, the fingers of one hand keeping it balanced.

 

Kurt hasn’t really looked at Blaine properly yet— too caught up with shock and irritation upon finding Blaine in his apartment before 7am. But looking at him now, Kurt can see some unruly curls breaking free from the strong-hold style the rest of his hair is in. And by the way he’s dressed Kurt figures that he’s obviously not at any rehearsals or anything like that today. His suit is smart and nice but his pale purple shirt underneath is a little dull and plain. He’s obviously gotten dressed in haste today.  

 

“Shouldn’t you be elsewhere at this time in the morning?” Kurt asks.

 

“Where?” Blaine answers like he can’t possibly think of anywhere else he should be or be doing.

 

 _Anywhere!_ “I don’t know” Kurt replies sounding tired, “sleeping in, attending meetings, doing what ever the hell you want. I mean you must have something important to do today all dressed like that.” Kurt jerks his chin up and down towards Blaine’s body.

 

Blaine preens a little under Kurt’s watchful gaze. He grins and pats at his pants a couple of times. “Oh, this is just for you, Kurt.” He replies softly, sounding pleased and Kurt has to remember to be narked at Blaine and not to be caught up in how adorable he can be at times.

 

Blaine turns around slowly, full circle on the spot. “I like your apartment. It’s nice” He says looking around. “I love the way it’s decorated. The furniture just screams of _Kurt._ It’s great.” 

 

Kurt sighs, his heart melting a little, while Blaine just continues to stand there waiting for a cue from Kurt.

 

Something occurs to Kurt, then.

 

Blaine has a whole career based on other people’s acceptance of him and what he does. Because of that he is offered a lot of things for free that some other people could only dream about. People love everything about Blaine. He gets the praise and the compliments; it’s never the other way around when it comes to him.

 

Blaine has never had to _work_ for somebody else’s acceptance, he’s just _had_ it. He’s never relied on what other people think or how they react to him apart from now—with Kurt.

 

This is somehow important to Blaine, to do the right thing by Kurt—

And _for_ Kurt. Blaine is somehow trying- _wanting_ to prove that he can be in the other seat, that he can appreciate people _for who they are_ also.

 

And for some reason it appears to be a somewhat hard pill for Kurt to swallow.    

 

“Blaine, I appreciate the thought. And the flowers- I- thank you.” Kurt glances back towards the flowers carelessly neglected in his kitchen sink. He walks back towards them, pulls out a glass vase from a cupboard under the sink and starts filling it with water.

 

As he carefully cuts the tie that holds the stems together and separates the roses with gentle precision to add them to the vase, Blaine approaches him and stands close just off to Kurt’s right.

 

“I hope you like them. They were the prettiest ones I could see in the shop. And the colours just stood out to me. The lady told me what they meant but I…I can’t remember now.” When Kurt peeks back over his shoulder there is a small, sheepish smile on Blaine’s face but he’s not quite meeting Kurt’s eye; instead choosing to stare at the flowers in Kurt’s hands. “I wont buy you flowers again though, not if they make you mad.”

 

“Blaine!” Kurt laughs incredulously. “I’m not mad that you bought me flowers. I’m not even sure if I’m really mad. I just can’t believe that you find it ok to just turn up at my apartment at this time in the morning. I mean god we don’t even _know_ each other or have established any kind of relationship at all—”

 

“Relationship?”

 

“—I mean that we are only acquaintances right now, Blaine. We- I need time to figure out what’s going on here. You may be used to this sort of thing but I’m not.”

 

Blaine tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and seems to think about Kurt’s words for a few silent moments. He steps back and leans against the back of the couch. He touches a finger to his lips, “when you say that I’m used to this but you are not, you’re referring to?”

 

Kurt shrugs, unsure on how to answer, and maybe also a little reluctant to do so even if he knew how.  

 

“Could I make a light-suggestion?” Blaine asks softly. Kurt nods because Blaine is probably going to anyway with Kurt’s consent or not.

 

Blaine pushes himself up off of the couch and strolls slowly forward towards Kurt. He’s left his jacket on the back of the couch and his hands are in his pants pockets. “You’re not used to socializing or doing anything that is out of your comfort zone?” He asks quietly and when Kurt does nothing but stare at the ground Blaine smiles and continues. “You do what you want and what’s best for you and that’s good, why not? I used to be like that. I get it.”

 

Kurt looks up at Blaine then, his eyes very blue, highlighted by the morning sun cracking through the slanted blinds on his tiny windows. “Let me take you to breakfast. Let us hang out, let me do nice things for you—”

 

“But wh—”

 

“—and don’t ask me why.” Blaine grins, briefly touching a finger to Kurt’s nose. Kurt very strangely misses his touch as fleeting and minimal as it was. “Just believe me when I say that it’s for me. So if it will make you happy to still view me as being a selfish asshole then so be it. It’s the price I’ve got to pay if it means spending time with you.”

 

The question is spoken in Kurt’s eyes and on the ‘O’ shape of his parted lips, he doesn’t need to ask it aloud.

 

“Because being around you makes me feel normal again, it makes me feel like I was when I was back in college. I miss hanging out in my underwear with my roommate, and being up too early and going to bed too late—”

 

“I’m sure you do that now.”

 

“For compulsory reasons yes…not just _because_.”

 

Kurt drops his chin to his chest, contemplating and suddenly realizes that he really should be getting dressed for his day ahead. He doesn’t really have the time for breakfast with Blaine even if he wanted to. And a teeny, tiny part of him really _does—_ for reasons unknown to Kurt.

 

“Let me have today. Let me try and explain all of this to my poor roommate. Let me go to class and probably not get anything done, then go to work and speak to my crazy, conniving boss and again probably not get anything done there either. I’ll text you tonight, I promise.”

 

Blaine makes a face. “You still have my number?”

 

“Give it to me again.” Kurt says trying to cover up the guilt in his voice.

 

“Ok” Blaine smiles, “I’ll let you have all of that. Anything you want. So long as you let me have that one extra chance you mentioned last night. I promise I’ll try not to do anything crazy or annoying like this again. Not without your go ahead.”

 

Kurt smiles and nods at him. Blaine copies him and shrugs a little. “I just- I like you, Kurt.”

 

“I know.” Kurt says, because if he’s going to admit anything it might as well be the fact that he knows he’s not getting rid of Blaine Anderson anytime soon.  


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Yeah, so did I say that this would be around 8 chapters? I obviously lied. I usually, unknowingly always do when working out chapter margins. We may make it to 10-ish… ;) 
> 
> Thank you everybody for all of the comments!

“Talk, Isabelle. Now.” Kurt says the very moment he steps into her office and shuts the door behind himself. He’s not even worried by the tone of voice he’s using to speak to his boss. They’re friends and she’s lied to him. She had this coming, and she knows it.

 

“Good afternoon, Kurt.” She smiles sweetly at him and watches while he shoulders off his bag and drops down into a chair in front of her desk.

 

Kurt’s only response is a well-conditioned glare.

 

Isabelle continues to smile at him while twirling a lock of her long, wavy golden-brown hair around her forefinger. Usually, in true Kurt fashion he would initiate a stand-off here—her innocent smile against his deathly gaze; but he’s tired, he’s had the craziest 24 hours, he completely forgot his lines in class today and now he just wants answers.

 

“Isabelle, please” he sighs, his face falling. His eyes bright green, speckled with blue are glassed over with a pleading glaze. “What the hell is going on here? What have you signed me up for?”

 

“Oh, honey.” Isabelle says with sympathy, her smile dropping into a frown. She stands from her seat and quickly comes around to perch on the edge of her desk in front of Kurt, a hand laid reassuringly over his knee. “Was he not nice? He promised me he’d be nice to you. I warned him.”

 

Kurt stares at her wanly. “Why did you do this? You know I didn’t- I don’t like him—”

 

“No, Kurt,” she interrupts softly, a small, endearing smile creeping back on to her lips. “You told yourself that you didn’t like him after that incident at your school, I could see through it. When I met him and we discovered that we had _you_ in common I just knew that this was an opportunity that I could _not_ pass up, for you of course.”

 

Kurt opens his mouth to protest but all that comes out is an exhausted sigh. He drops his head back on his shoulders and closes his eyes. Rolls his neck a couple times.

 

“Was I wrong?” Isabelle asks quietly, patting gently at his knee. He can hear the smile in her voice. He knows that _she_ knows that she wasn’t wrong.

 

Slowly he raises his head back up and meets her eyes. He shakes his head. “He- Blaine has been… _more_ than nice.”

 

Isabelle makes a little squeak excitedly. “See, I told you. This is all I wanted for you. To get closure and see that your _once upon a time-idol_ is still that same guy, you just had a bad experience with him. Everyone has bad days.” Kurt regards her carefully; it’s almost as if something is amiss.

 

“So” she starts as she stands and makes her way back to her chair, “did you ask him any questions, did he give any you helpful advice? He sounded very insightful when we were talking. He told me that he’d give you any help that he could to help you break out. He only wanted a chance to meet you and share some of his experiences. What a nice guy, huh!” She speaks so happily and carefree like a child who has only been told the nicest, innocent version of their favourite fairytale—not the deeper, darker side.

 

“Uh-huh?” Kurt answers, his head tilts to the side sceptically, like he’s waiting for the catch.

 

Isabelle picks up a pencil from her desk and begins sketching away on a large pad that had been left to the side, obviously done with this conversation—a lot sooner than Kurt had imagined. “Good.” She looks up and winks at him before returning to her work. “Well now that it’s all done and out of the way, you can quit fretting over him and get on with your life with your dreams and hopes still intact.”

 

Kurt, completely lost in what Isabelle is saying, stares down at her work while she draws. She’s continuing a sketch that Kurt knows she had started yesterday morning, because she asked for notes on it, which means that she hasn’t been back in the office since yesterday lunchtime—she doesn’t know that Kurt didn’t come back to work after meeting Blaine.

 

She apparently doesn’t know _anything_ other than Kurt had 15 minutes of idle chat with Blaine Anderson.

 

“Um, Isabelle?” He begins, his voice low and a little shaky. He’s not quite sure how to continue this sentence—or even if he should.

 

“Yep, honey. What is it?” She briefly glances up at him, her lips pressed together in concentration.

 

All this time he’d been mad at her and she only thought that he was actually only getting a meet and greet experience with Blaine. She was only trying to help. She didn’t set him up for a dinner date and has her hat ready for a fall wedding! That- this was all Blaine!

 

“Um- nothing. I- ah had a question about something but I’ve answered it in my own head. I’ll um- go back to my office now. Call if you need me.”

 

“I always do.” She grins, still staring down at her own hand working across the page diligently while Kurt gathers up his belongings and wanders off towards his own office like a little, lost lamb.

 

And just when he thought that Blaine couldn’t surprise him anymore. Whether it’s a good or bad surprise Kurt hasn’t worked out yet.

 

*

 

He stays a little later at work than usual to make up for yesterday. He still feels guilty about it, but it’s not like he doesn’t put in long and hard hours the rest of the time. It was a one off thing, something that he felt at the time was well deserved.

 

By the time he gets home it’s almost 7 and to his delight he finds that Tai is not at work tonight and has made and served up one of his mother’s signature dishes, Gong Bao Chicken— in other words, Kurt’s favourite thing to eat after a shitty day.

 

He joins Tai at their tiny folding-table; which is usually positioned between the back of the couch and their kitchenette, immediately after toeing off his shoes and dumping his satchel on the floor.

 

“Thank you,” he mutters gratefully while reaching for the serving spoon to dig straight in.

 

Tai had gotten dressed and left in an understandable hurry that morning—after Blaine had left and before Kurt could get to him. Really who could blame him? He texted Kurt during the day just to check if he was ok and Kurt had replied with a crazy-faced emoji; but that’s all the communication that the two of them had shared that day, apart from now.

 

“Soo, Blaine Anderson, huh?” Tai says quietly, barely looking up from his meal. His voice is soft, it always is and he nearly always has an awkward but cute expression on his face like he finds everything amusing. “I liked that movie he did with that big, funny guy when they were on the run then it turned into this big, hilarious musical number.”

 

Kurt swallows what he’s chewing and reaches for his water glass before smirking at Tai. This is Tai’s way of initiating a round of questions about the guy.

 

“Go ahead, shoot.”

 

*

 

“So he’s like really into you then?” Tai chuckles that nervous little giggle of his while they clear the table together and take the dishes over to the sink. Kurt washes and Tai dries.

 

Like Kurt, Tai doesn’t really socialize much other than with each other. He Skypes with his brothers and plays online video games and talks to strangers through a headset but that’s about it. Kurt knows that he has Tai’s trust and confidence to tell him anything. And vice-versa.   

 

“I guess so. Yeah.” Kurt mumbles, while he pays special attention to a pan he’s been scrubbing for the past few minutes. It’s crazy for Kurt to even think about let alone say out aloud and share with another person.

 

He knows that it’s probably a good idea, telling somebody about this whole surreal situation. He knows that he could have told Isabelle but then that would have probably lead to too many questions and definitely far too many expectations. With Tai, it’s not like that. It’s like he’s a closed book. He’ll absorb information given to him but then only say something once every now and then.

 

And because of that it surprises Kurt when Tai rubs a cloth over a fork, places it in the cutlery drawer and turns to him and says “Weird. I mean not weird that he likes you. That part I get. It’s just _all_ weird, you know.” He shrugs and picks up a glass to dry like he hasn’t just said something that Kurt was _not_ expecting.

 

“You- you get that he likes me?” Kurt asks, his tone questioning. He’s finally satisfied with the pan and moves it over to the drying rack.

 

“Well, yeah.” Tai shrugs, and gives a small lopsided grin that makes his warm, brown eyes go small. He’s a cute guy with his lightly tanned skin, a head full of jet-black, straight hair and a small but well built physique. Kurt has always regarded him as the good-looking nerdy type, like… _Tai._ He’s just _Tai_ who Kurt has known and lived with and been friends with.

 

Tai gets back to drying and humming something to himself and Kurt realizes that he’s not going to expand anymore. He can’t say that he’s surprised, really—it is Tai after all. Though When Kurt finishes up and adds the last of the dishes to the rack he glances over and notices a slight hardened expression on Tai’s normally soft features and in his kind eyes.

 

Kurt slips past his roommate and heads over towards his discarded bag; he doesn’t have to explain what he’s doing for Tai to know he’s going to head into his room to catch up on some work for both school and his internship.

 

“Just be careful, you know.” Tai’s voice calls out, quiet but sure from the kitchen just before Kurt disappears through his bedroom door. Kurt pauses on the spot, knowing that Tai will know he’s listening. “He has what _you_ want. And he wants _you._ Just makes sure you both know where you’re at.” And then he starts humming again and Kurt retreats into his room and closes the door behind him.

 

Sometimes Tai can say something that makes absolutely no sense but can also mean so much and have the ability to stay with Kurt for a long time.

 

This is one of those times.

 

*

 

It’s just passed 11 and Kurt shuts down his laptop before he falls asleep on top of the thing. Scattered all around his laptop are manuscripts, rehearsal notes, sketches and doodles and everything else that he has only given fifty percent of his attention to. It’s not like him. He hasn’t even logged into his YouTube account to see if he has any new subscribers.

 

By the time he finishes in the bathroom and has knocked on Tai’s door to say goodnight, Kurt is exhausted and gets into bed with just a pair of boxers on; not having the energy to hunt out some clean PJ’s. 

 

He unplugs his phone from behind his contemporary-steel nightstand and sinks back against his pillows. The background screen lights up and he suddenly remembers then that he forgot to turn it off silent mode after leaving work.

 

A message box pops up and he doesn’t have to think too hard to guess who it’s from.

 

**You promised me a text message tonight :( x**

Kurt smirks at the screen, his face alight with the glow. He settles himself more comfortably and gets ready for the long-haul.  

 

**Quit whining, there’s still 48 minutes left of the night.**

****

The response is instant. **Oh, think of the opportunities ;) How was your day? X**

Kurt scoffs but begins typing and hits send. **Long, busy, tiring. I learnt something…unexpected today!**

**Oh? Care to share? X**

**I spoke to Isabelle. You two only share the same story on the first part. The second part she knows nothing about?!**

**And what part would that be? X**

Kurt scowls at his phone. **The part when you made me go to dinner with you. That apparently wasn’t part of the deal you made with her.**

**I asked and you said yes. I didn’t _make_ you do anything. Isabelle agreed to help me meet you. She didn’t say I wasn’t allowed to take you to dinner. X**

_Ugh, he’s impossible._ He types it out. **You’re impossible.**

**Aw, nothing’s impossible, Kurt. You sound like you could use a pick me up…**

Kurt could only imagine what Blaine had in mind when he wrote that but before he can think of a response to type he’s startled by somebody knocking at the front door. He pushes back the covers and he and Tai appear at their doorways at the same time, giving each other mutual curious looks.

 

“Have you been sleep-online shopping again?” Tai asks him, heading towards the door where the knocking is becoming more persistent. Kurt doesn’t have it in himself to laugh, there’s an uncomfortable pull tightening in his stomach with every step Tai takes towards the door.

 

Kurt opens his mouth to tell Tai to ignore it but he’s already there, unlocking the chain and turning the key. When he opens the door his eyes widen and he huffs out a breath of laughter. “This is for you, I guess?” He smiles turning to Kurt who is frightened to take a step closer. His view is blocked by the now opened door.

 

“Thank you, goodnight.” Tai says to whoever is at the door and reaches out to take something in his hands. It looks big and appears to be a little heavy.

 

When Tai reappears from behind the open door and kicks it closed behind himself, Kurt gasps.

 

Tai is holding a large wicker basket wrapped in cellophane and tied with a vivid, purple ribbon and tidy bow. Kurt shakes his head and moves over to the coffee table where Tai is bending over to carefully place the basket.

 

On closer inspection Kurt can see that the basket is packed full with chocolate bars of all sizes and varieties. There are big lollypops and candied hearts covered in shiny foil, sugared candy and boiled sweets and practically everything that Kurt would love to devour.

 

A small, ivory card sits tucked under the ribbon. Kurt pulls it out and flips it over.

 

_For your sweet tooth. B x_

 

Tai walks back to his room laughing and shaking his head back and forth. “Like I said, be careful. And I’m helping you eat that stuff tomorrow, by the way. Night.”

 

When Tai’s door is closed Kurt leaves the basket where it is and goes back to his own room. He flops down on the bed, flicks the card on to his nightstand and picks up his phone, immediately beginning to type with fury.

 

**Seriously? Candy and Chocolate? A basket full of it??**

Blaine’s response is immediate. **Don’t tell me that I’ve done bad. I haven’t shown up, I haven’t crossed the line. I’ve simply sent you a gift of something that I know will cheer you up. Am I wrong?? :) x**

Kurt twists his face and worries his lip between his teeth. Blaine is infuriating, but he’s also right. Damn him. _Damn you!_

**I don’t eat carbs past 8pm!!**

 

The reply doesn’t come as quick as the others had and Kurt finds himself wriggling with anticipation. When it does come, Kurt is perplexed to say the least.

 

**Save them then, they’re yours. _Sweet_ dreams, Kurt ;) X**

Kurt reads the message over and over. Just like that, Blaine is bidding him goodnight? He lies down, back against his pillows and pulls the duvet over him once more. He rolls over on to his side and holds his phone carefully in his hands while he eagerly watches the screen, waiting for something- anything.

 

But nothing happens.

 

Kurt thinks in the dark silence of his room. He thinks and he thinks and then over-thinks everything. Eventually with a deep sigh he flops over on to his belly and pushes his face into his pillow. He holds his phone up high so that he can still peer at it.

 

His thumbs scatter over the keypad on the screen, but don’t press too firm so that the keys actually catch.

 

Until he gives in—

 

**Good night, Blaine. Thank you… K x**


	9. Chapter 9

By the time the weekend rolls around, Kurt is ready for it. He’s not at Vogue, he’s pretty much up to date with any leftover work he had and he cannot wait to do _nothing._

It’s not usually like him to be so unproductive but after the week he’s had he’s _exhausted._ Maybe this is why he can be so catty at times, maybe he just needs to take himself out of the equation every once in a while and just _chill._

Well, tonight’s the night.

It’s Friday night and Tai is at work meaning that Kurt has the whole apartment to himself for the next 5 hours at least. By the time Tai will get home around midnight Kurt is hoping to be in a blissful state of sleep.

 

He’s sitting on the couch after just waving Tai off, debating his choices of either trying to marathon the whole Twilight saga or look for something long and meaty that he hasn’t seen before that he can get lost in.

 

His phone dings and lights up over on the coffee table just as Kurt picks up the TV remote. He doesn’t even look at it or give it any resemblance of attention. He knows who it will be.

 

Kurt hasn’t seen Blaine since that morning he turned up at Kurt’s apartment earlier in the week. He’s heard from him _everyday_ ; whether it be a text message or a voicemail (he’d purposely missed the call) or even an email with a gif-set (usually of Blaine in one of his movies).

 

The messages have always been short and sweet and fairly simple, like;

**How are you?**

**How is your day? X**

**I miss seeing your face. X**

**I miss hearing your voice. X**

**When will you let me see you again? X**

**You technically still owe me another chance. X**

Blaine had also been somewhat forthcoming on some of his messages, like sharing details of his day with Kurt, the boring meetings he has to attend, the people he has to schmooze with who he’d secretly like to impale.

 

It had been kind of refreshing for Kurt to hear Blaine talk to him about his week like any other normal person. He sort of got the feeling that Blaine felt the same and appreciated having Kurt to talk to like that.  

Kurt had replied to all of the messages as bland and unhelpful but also nice enough as he could be. The thing is, he just doesn’t know how to properly respond to them without throwing himself off of the deep end or appearing too uninterested. He just doesn’t know how to feel. He knows what he _wants_ to feel, but doing what you want and doing what’s right are two different monsters. Like the whole head Vs the heart palaver.

 

Without actually seeing Blaine’s face or hearing his voice, Kurt doesn’t know what will come from just a string of text messages.

 

Which is why 10 minutes later, Bella Swan is sitting on a plane holding a cactus; when Kurt gets up to fetch a snack from the kitchen and his phone starts ringing, he practically high-jumps back over the couch to get to it.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Kurt, hi.” Blaine’s voice comes smooth and easy over the line. Kurt sits gingerly on the edge of the couch, his heart racing a little.

 

“Hi, Blaine.” He doesn’t want to admit how reassuring it actually feels to hear Blaine’s voice.

 

“Not feel like texting tonight?” Blaine’s voice is playful and Kurt doesn’t have to see him to know that his eyes are sparkling and he’s grinning one of those ‘I’m a gorgeous, teasing jerk’ smiles.

 

Kurt leans back further towards the back of the couch and props his feet up on the coffee table. “I was getting to it. I have the apartment to myself and I’m enjoying a little bit of _me_ time.” As the words leave his mouth, Kurt feels his stomach fly to his throat. _Oh god, what have I done!_

“Oh?” Blaine says, high pitched and _interested_. “Sounds lovely, though a little sad to think of you all by yourself. Care to make it a _boy’s_ night instead?”

 

Kurt smiles despite his thumping heart. _What do I say?_

 

“Um-what?” _You could have done way better than that._

Blaine chuckles lowly and the sound resonates deep within Kurt. He can feel it in the pit of his stomach.

 

“Would you like some company?” Blaine tries again..

_Well, shit._ He’s sitting in a pair of sweats and a faded t-shirt, his face freshly moisturized. He doesn’t have the time for his whole getting dressed routine.

 

“Aren’t you busy? It’s a Friday night; don’t you have some party to be at? An award to collect? Or a club to be snapped in by the paps?”

 

“Nope. None of that. Tonight I’m being a boring old man and would only like- _love_ the company of one other person.”

 

Kurt’s stomach clenches, though not quite uncomfortably. “Me?”

 

“Bingo!”

 

Kurt’s heart flutters in his chest. He looks down at himself at his old, gray running sweats and royal blue t-shirt with a cracked Disney logo. He runs a hand through his hair, it’s not bad, it still has some hairspray in it from that morning and at least he’s clean with a lingering scent of deodorant and cologne.

 

 _You know what? Screw Blaine Anderson, if he wants me_ _he can have all of me and that includes my Friday night getup!_ Kurt can’t even understand why the fleeting thought ever occurred to him to change and spruce himself up, just for _Blaine_ _._

“Well, what are you thinking?” Kurt asks into the phone, trying to keep his breath shallow and his tone casual.

 

Not more than 4 seconds later there is a knock at the door and a very recognisable voice calls through from the other side. “Like I said, _boy’s night_!”

 

*

 

“I’m team Switzerland” Blaine comments casually, as he leans forward to pick up his beer bottle and a handful of popcorn from the coffee table. He’d brought with him a pack of beer, packets of microwavable popcorn, dipping sauces and all kinds of potato and breaded snacks—claiming that he didn’t want to show up empty handed. Kurt had brought in the hamper that Blaine had sent him and together they made their way through _that_ too.

 

“Of course you are” Kurt says dryly from beside him. “You, who wants everything.”

 

Blaine scoffs and shoves a fist full of popcorn into his mouth. “Bella doesn’t want both of them. She wants Edward, only Edward. But she needs to have Jacob in her life too. I get it.” He says, chewing and smacking his lips together.

 

Kurt turns his head and side-eyes Blaine, his lip curling with amusement. Though, amusing as it is Blaine speaks with much conviction, with an undercurrent of something else. He really believes what he’s saying, he _feels_ it. His words are an underlying meaning for something else. Something in his own life perhaps? Could Kurt be Edward and Jacob the representation of Blaine’s crazy life and career?

 

Shaking his insane thoughts away Kurt continues to look at Blaine, just simply taking him in. Blaine is dressed in black Adidas sweatpants with a matching zip-up hoodie and a red t-shirt poking out underneath. Kurt can just make out the words ‘Class of 2014’ written in bold, white capitals and he laughs under his breath remembering the movie and the scene in which Blaine’s character wears that t-shirt; and he has clearly stolen it from the set.

 

What’s more, he has opted to sit for the last two and a half movies with his hood up over his head, just stopping below his eyebrows. He looks like some kind of bad-ass from one of his movies—though an adorable bad-ass because his face is far from menacing as he coos at the screen and smiles whenever Edward gazes lovingly towards Bella.

 

Kurt finds it hard to look away from him and to think that he had been lingering outside Kurt’s apartment dressed liked that, waiting for an invitation to come inside. Nobody probably recognized or registered who he was at all other than some weirdo lurking in the hallways.

 

Kurt also notes that Blaine clearly hasn’t shaved that morning. There’s a dark shadow covering his chin and jaw line and Kurt finds it very enticing.

 

Making himself get back to the movie, Kurt turns toward the TV to see Bella, Jacob and Edward standing in a kind of Triangle, with Charlie in the background. They’re all staring at each other, and Blaine is engrossed.

 

“I’d never peg you for a Twi-hard” Kurt says, reaching out for a breadstick and dipping it into a pot of hummus.

 

“A _massive_ one. I love them.” Blaine replies nodding, pulling his eyes away from the screen to look at Kurt. He smiles when Kurt pops the breadstick into his mouth and sucks. “I’ve never seen them in years. Eclipse is my favourite. It’s so passionate.” He jerks his chin towards the TV in indication.

 

“Yeah, I can’t believe we actually made it to the third one,” Kurt says looking at the clock up on the wall. It’s just after midnight but Kurt’s not feeling any hint of tiredness—far from it.

 

During an earlier bathroom break he’d texted Tai to let him know of his night’s developments and Tai had only replied with **Remember what I told you, but have fun.**

 

Tai is still yet to come home which makes Kurt think that’s he’s decided to stay later at work to help clean up, or maybe the staff have all gone for drinks together and Tai has decided to tag along for once.

 

“We can pause if you want to- I can go?” Blaine says, noticing Kurt staring at the time, which takes Kurt completely by surprise.

 

They’re sitting close on the couch, with their folded legs slightly over lapping but that’s all. Blaine hasn’t tried to take Kurt’s hand or be overly familiar like what he usually tries to do.  It’s like he’s just completely happy sitting in Kurt’s company, hanging out, snacking and watching terrible but oh-so good movies.

 

And now he’s offering to leave without any innuendos or invitations. _What’s that all about?_

 

“Oh- um sure. You- you can if you want to. I’m not tired, though. But I mean you obviously have an early start tomorrow so—”

 

Suddenly Blaine leans to the side and his hand is on Kurt’s knee. And _oh,_ there it is. That touch and that familiar warmth. _Cut it out, Kurt. It’s just his fucking hand on your knee for Christ sakes._

“Don’t worry. I don’t have anywhere to be terribly early tomorrow.” Blaine smiles, “there’s a table reading in the afternoon, like at 2 or something.”  

 

“Oh?” This spikes Kurt’s interest. He hasn’t really heard Blaine speak of any future work prospects. It’s a little exciting. “What for?”

 

“Classified.” Blaine grins. “If I could tell you I would but I’m on lockdown. I’m not really that into it anyway, it’s just something my management put me up for and I said I’d go along to see what happens.”

 

Kurt nods, “it must be nice having those options at least. You know something to choose from rather than grabbing at anything you can get.”

 

“You’ll get there, Kurt.” Blaine tells him sincerely, his eyes a warm brown—looking at Kurt so fondly. “You’re still young; you have time and so much potential.”

 

Kurt grimaces but there’s also a little hidden smile there. “It’s kind of weird, hearing that coming from _you._ You make it so sound easy.”

 

“Hey, what happened to that kick-ass Kurt Hummel confidence?” Blaine asks, poking at Kurt’s side playfully. Kurt wriggles away from him, grins and shrugs but doesn’t speak. “Yes I got a little bit of a kick-start when I was younger but only because my mom worked in the TV production industry and my dad played in a touring orchestra” Blaine explains. “They knew people, had contacts in the business, you know? So I did a little bit of modelling and ad work when I was 16 but I still went to college- _your college_ , I still worked for what I have now.”  

 

Kurt’s eyes light up a little as he looks over at Blaine. “Thank you; I appreciate you telling me that.”

 

“Anytime” Blaine smiles.

 

“Hey, could I ask you something?” Kurt asks. It’s something that’s been on in his mind for some time.

 

Blaine just smiles and looks elated that Kurt is finally appearing to take a positive interest in him. “Sure. What is it?”

 

“When- when I was in the elevator at Vogue, coming up to the roof to meet you. Your assistant told me about an international tour you had postponed for the meet and greet with fans. But now I know what _I know,_ what about your tour?”

 

“Good question, what about it?” Blaine fires back and grins, his hands suspended in the air by his head. He drops his hands and sighs, “I love my new management team, they’re supportive and we work well together. We’re all friends and appreciate each other. They’re much better than those last douches. But, when it comes to this type of career when it is pretty much centralized around 2-3 million fans, twitter followers…that sort of thing; sometimes you have to work just to please them and keep them coming. The tour is just bait that my team have been dangling in front of the fans. The same as the idea of an album. Yes I’ve released some covers and appeared in duets and music videos but the stage and screen is where I’m at.”

 

Kurt stares at Blaine, a little in awe. He’s been so truthful that it takes Kurt aback. “You’re a good singer, though.” He murmurs, blushing. “And I’ve loved your stage work too.”

 

Blaine gasps and throws both hands up to his face. “Oh my gosh, was that a compliment from you?” He teases, beaming brightly. “How wonderful, I’m thrilled. Thank you so much.” He drawls very over-dramatically.   

 

They both burst out laughing and Kurt shoves at Blaine’s shoulder playfully. It’s nice and normal and nothing at all what Kurt had thought would ever happen between them.

 

It’s a _friendship._

 

“So,” Blaine says when their laughter has died down and an air of silence fills the space between them. “Did I do good?” He asks, gesturing towards the coffee table, laden with all the treats he had brought with him.

 

“I think you did.” Kurt nods, picking up a Dorito and scooping up some nacho cheese with it for effect. “I’ve enjoyed talking with you and learning about your weird Vampire and Werewolf addiction.”

 

“So I passed my chance?” Blaine asks, shifting a little on the couch and in doing so, scooting further towards Kurt. Kurt rolls his eyes and rubs his fingers against his pants.

 

“I guess so—”

 

“Do I get another one?” Blaine sounds and looks so hopeful, that Kurt giggles at him.

 

He shakes his head laughing at a sudden though, “would the next one really be called a chance?” He asks, “I think we’ve dished all those out already, don’t you?” He doesn’t realize the statement he’s just made and the weight behind it, until Blaine makes it obvious.

 

Blaine arches an eyebrow, he looks impressed. He takes down his hood and looks Kurt square in the eye, leaning in a little closer. His voice lowers to a husk “what would you like to call it then?”

 

 _Oh!_ Blood floods to Kurt’s face…and other places. His breath catches in his throat and quickens in his chest. “I-um” he swallows, tries to think of something- anything to get off track. “I- ah- I think that next time maybe don’t hover outside my front door like some sort of stalker—

”

 

That seems to work. Blaine pulls back a little and grins, his eyes shining with mirth. “I was not. I was in the car and only when you told me you were home did I come up—”

 

“So you were still hovering outside my building?”

 

“I was passing by and just thought, hey Kurt lives around here, I’ll swing by and see if he’s home. He’s a well-rounded guy and—”

 

Kurt gives a bark of laughter, “you are such a liar” he says when he can breath steady again.

 

“You like it though,” Blaine beams. “You liked that I was there. You’ve enjoyed tonight, you admitted that yourself.”

 

 Kurt nods, laughter drying up in his throat. “I have.”

 

“So next time, if- when we meet- which I would very much like if we did.” Blaine says gracefully. “— then it would be called a…” He pauses, waiting- _hoping_ for Kurt to finish his sentence in the way he wants him to.

 

“Blaine, I-I don’t do this, I don’t know—”

 

“Talk to me” Blaine urges, _implores._ “Tell me what it is that you want. _Anything,_ it’s yours.”

 

“I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never dated.” Kurt blurts, his eyes darting to the ground- anywhere but at Blaine. “I don’t _do this_. And now here you are of all people in the world wanting—” He breaks off, takes a breath. “I used to have your face pinned to my wall and now you’re sitting on my couch in your sweats asking me to—”

 

“Say it” Blaine whispers, “please.” He places a hand on Kurt’s arm. “Let me know, that you understand what I want here. I’m patient, Kurt, I’ll wait for you to feel ready but at least let me know that you understand and I’m not just out on a limb here—”

 

“You want me to go on a date with you” Kurt breathes.

 

“Yes, please.” Blaine beams. Kurt rolls his eyes for probably the tenth time that night. How can Blaine go from so sincere to playful and sarcastic again just like that?

 

“Blaine, we didn’t meet in the most conventional of ways. It’s a hardly a good foundation to start dating—”

 

“There have been worse ways.” Blaine argues. “We could have met in any way. Why not this way? I would have asked you out no matter what.” Kurt blinks at him bewildered and Blaine daringly takes hold of Kurt’s hand gently. “The thing is, Kurt, there have been many things and people that I have ran away from because of my sheer stubbornness. You’re not one of those things or people, Kurt. For the first time in my life… I think I’ve met my match.”

 

 _Holy shit._   “Blaine” Kurt gasps, barely breathing.

 

“I’m not forcing you to date me, Kurt. Just- I don’t know- just please…” He trails off, a hand on his head pulling at his curls, and Kurt is amazed that he’s actually rendered Blaine Anderson speechless.

 

“Blaine?” Kurt says softly. “Lets be friends, ok? Lets see what happens from here. I mean we’re already at the sweatpants, junk food and awful romance movies stage” he giggles and Blaine smiles with him. “Let’s continue what we have going here.”

 

They hold hands and look at each other fondly. Blaine looks in awe “that, I can do.”   


	10. Chapter 10

The following Friday night is spent in an almost identical way to the previous Friday. Tai is working and Kurt is sitting on his couch in his sweats, watching reality TV; only this time he’s made a healthy stir-fry and is chewing happily on some grilled, soy flavored chicken while somebody does something horrifically embarrassing on live TV.

 

Blaine is beside him, dressed almost the same, sipping from a cool glass of lemonade that Kurt has freshly made; and has a rice noodle wrapped around a chopstick suspended half way to his mouth.

 

During an ad break, Blaine looks around the apartment and smiles. He sighs a little wistfully which has Kurt looking at him oddly. “You know, I love this place. It’s just so cool and small and homey and just nice.” He shrugs placidly.

 

This is the second time this week that Blaine has come over. The first time being on Wednesday, claiming that he had a fashion crisis and was desperate for Kurt’s help. As it happens, when he had arrived Kurt was very quick to realize that Blaine’s so called emergency was nothing but a basic colour picking decision for a tie and shirt combo for some management meeting. Tai had found it all very amusing; given them both pointed looks and then promptly left for an evening study group he had pre-arranged. This left Kurt and Blaine spending the rest of the evening playing board games that Tai had brought from his parents house when he’d moved in.

 

It had been better than anything Kurt had planned for his Wednesday evening, that much he’ll admit.  

 

“Oh yeah,” Kurt scoffs, amusement etched across his face. “Because I’m _so sure_ that this old shoebox is much nicer and bigger than wherever you live—where _do_ you live by the way?” It had never occurred to Kurt to ask until now.

 

Blaine glances away sheepishly. “Greenwich Village— I have a condo.”

 

 _Of course you do._ Kurt scoffs again, also laughing. “Oh you poor thing, how awful. I sure bet that _you_ don’t get the luxury of standing in your kitchen, watching the TV in your living room while also being able to hear your roommate in the shower _and_ Mrs Hammersmith from next door wandering up and down the hallway outside your front door looking for her cat!”

 

Blaine giggles and smirks at him. “I’m just saying that I get lonely. My place is too big for just me. I feel more comfortable here.”

 

“Aww” Kurt sticks his bottom lip out teasingly, “why don’t you just move to the slums, huh? Or better yet just move on in here with us.” Blaine’s face lights up and Kurt is quick to shake his head no, his brow knitted tight. “I was kidding, Blaine.”

 

Blaine pouts and Kurt looks back at the TV smiling and shaking his head. The show they were watching starts up and again and they’re both quiet for a short while with just the odd chuckle from one of them because of something stupid happening on screen.

 

“You wanna come?” Blaine says quietly.

 

Kurt turns his head away from the TV, his eyebrow arched. The question ‘where?’ stated clearly in his eyes.

 

“My place.” Blaine reiterates. “You wanna come check it out sometime? I mean-I um, I don’t really know how to cook per se but I like watching cooking shows, so I could probably try and _rustle_ up something, and I could show you my games room. It’d be fun—”

 

“We’re not talking Mr Grey style here?” Kurt asks mock-indignation in his tone. To be honest, he wouldn’t put it past Blaine.

 

“No!” Blaine replies, looking appalled. “My room is way better equipped than _that_ idiot’s.” He winks and Kurt bats his knee against Blaine’s, giggling.

 

“You busy tomorrow at anytime?” Blaine asks before Kurt can even answer his original question. He finishes his food and puts the empty bowl down in front of him. “That was delicious, by the way, thank you. You’re an awesome cook.”

 

“You’re welcome, thank you.” Kurt replies, blushing a little. He carefully stacks his own empty bowl inside of Blaine’s. “I have some studying and rehearsing that I should probably do for my finals tomorrow but apart from that I have no plans.”

 

Blaine squeaks and bounces on the couch cushion beside Kurt and angles his body to face Kurt. “Will you come for dinner, please?”

 

And with pleading eyes like that and such an excited smile; and the fact that he’d already said he had no plans, how could Kurt say no?

 

*

 

“Hey!” Blaine says brightly the moment he’s opened his front door, he swings it wide and steps aside to let Kurt come in. He’s wearing light gray slacks and a white shirt that is un-tucked and unbuttoned down to his breast bone. His feet are bare and his hair looks like he’s pushed his hand through it a number of times during the course of the day.

 

Kurt’s eyes quickly sweep up and down Blaine’s body before peeping around Blaine’s home. On _very_ quick inspection he finds (just as expected) that the condo is huge, elegant and must have cost an amount of money that Kurt can only dream about. It’s well decorated and fabulously furnished. The walls are painted in a pallet of muted Grays infused with clear glass that lets you peek into the next room. The furniture throughout is mostly black leather and dark finished wood; and there’s thousands of dollars of technology all around, all bigger than anything Kurt owns put together.

 

It’s beyond lovely, of course, but it just doesn’t scream _home_ to Kurt. It’s so clear and empty and open. He can almost understand what Blaine was talking about last night. Kurt isn’t sure if he would like to live here alone either.     

 

In true Blaine fashion, he steps forward as soon as the door is closed, intending to pull Kurt into a warm hug; only he’s stopped by a big grocery bag hanging from Kurt’s hands below his stomach.

 

“What’s this?”  Blaine asks, trying to peer down into the bag.

 

“Well,” Kurt smiles, small and a little shy “you’ve brought me flowers, and had that massive basket of chocolate sent to me—which I’m still working on by the way, and I just thought as I’m the guest tonight I would bring something too, for you. Well, _us_ actually.” 

 

“Oh,” Blaine grins, “and what is it that you’ve brought?”  

 

Kurt’s face changes from coy to impish. His tone is dripping with sarcasm when he speaks. “Please do forgive me for assuming, and I apologise if I am wrong. But may I ask what’s for dinner?”

 

Blaine’s expression goes from delighted to disappointed in under a second. It’s very amusing. “I- I tried to think of something to cook for us that wouldn’t burn my kitchen down or smell or taste like dog food but- I- well I know this great Asian place that delivers and—”

 

“Just as I thought,” Kurt clucks his tongue but he’s smiling. He hikes the bag up into his arms and the top of a carrot pops up into view. “I’m going to make us dinner, and while doing so teach you how to cook. Now direct me to your kitchen.”

 

Blaine’s jaw hangs as he points down the hallway, and as he watches Kurt march off his smile widens so much that it almost hurts.

 

*

 

“This dish is so quick and easy to make.” Kurt says as he washes up at Blaine’s kitchen’s sink. “You can make it for a number of events and you’ll always be able to add new ingredients to change it up a little every time you make it.”

 

Blaine is standing behind him listening intently, his eyes following Kurt’s every move. Every time Kurt peeks back at him over his shoulder he loves the fond expression he finds on Blaine’s face. It’s so endearing.  

 

Blaine is wearing a red apron that Kurt had brought for him, with the words ‘Chef’s little helper’ emblazoned on the front. They swap positions and Blaine’s scrubs his hands while Kurt puts on his black apron and ties it around his waist. Kurt had dressed prepared tonight in a pair of stone-washed jeans and a simple teal colored Henley; comfortable and easy to move around the kitchen in, old enough for cooking stains or marks but also nice enough for Blaine’s gaze to linger on him a little too long.  

 

Blaine’s kitchen is your typical dream kitchen you’d find in Forbe’s magazine and Kurt hadn’t expected any less. There are a number of shiny appliances plugged in along the counter tops, pretty much every cooking utensil or gadget that any cook could ever want but none of it looks used. At all.

 

“Have you even cooked in this kitchen at all?” Kurt asks Blaine as he empties the bag of groceries onto a clear black, shiny granite worktop.

 

Blaine hangs his head and shakes it side to side, making Kurt giggle at him. “Not once? How long have you lived here?”

 

Blaine looks back up at him with a pout on his lips but a playful twinkle in his eye. He shrugs, feigning a look of innocence. Kurt laughs and picks out a chopping knife from the holder. “Get over here. First lesson, rinsing and chopping.”  

 

Kurt doesn’t care to admit exactly how much the sweet, warming feeling of having Blaine beside him while he bosses him around his own kitchen, is leaving him somewhat satisfied and slightly, inexplicably…happy.

 

*

 

“Blaine, how many times do I have to tell you, no!” Kurt laughs, bending over to stack the last dish into Blaine’s entirely too large for one person dishwasher.

 

When he straightens and turns he catches Blaine looking at him, his eyes focused a littler lower down than they need to be. When Blaine sees he’s been caught he only grins and leans against the counter, hands in his trousers pockets. “Come on Kurt. I’ll offer you a great a salary, benefits you can’t refuse and—”

 

Kurt laughs louder, swats at Blaine with a nearby dish cloth and says “no, I won’t be your live-in chef. Quite frankly I’m surprised that you don’t already have a legion of staff around here.”

 

“Why do I need a legion when I can have you?” Blaine replies, charmingly, eyelashes fluttering.

 

“Seriously, why don’t you have any help around here?” Kurt asks, genuinely curious.

 

“Don’t need it.” Blaine shrugs and the way he answers indicates that he’s not quite prepared to expand.  He sidesteps and catches one end of the cloth as Kurt playfully swipes at him again; only this time he holds on tight and pulls hard leaving Kurt no option but to be pulled with it, closer to Blaine.    

 

When they’re standing toe to toe, Kurt drops his end of the towel but doesn’t get very far as Blaine swoops in, tackling Kurt by the waist and tries to tickle his sides.

 

“Oh my god, you are not about to start a tickle fight” Kurt gasps, wriggling away from him, “you child.” His smile is wide and teasing and Blaine’s is almost identical. As they laugh, wriggle and scurry their way out of the kitchen and into the hallway in a tangle of limbs.

 

They’re like children. Playful, naughty, happy children. Kurt can’t remember the last time he allowed himself to just _be_ like this. To not rise to any expectation of himself.

 

Blaine skips ahead giddily. “Come on this way” he calls and takes off around a corner, his hand waving in the air for Kurt to follow.

 

When Kurt rounds the corner he finds the door to the last room in the hallway open. He approaches it and can just make out the dark curly top of Blaine’s head from the back of a large, cosy looking, black leather couch.

 

Kurt steps inside, a slow grin starting to spread as he looks around the, deviously large room. The walls are painted a bright, happy purple and the floor beneath his feet is cherry, shiny oak, hardwood. Along the whole back wall are shelves among shelves of DVD’s, video games, CD’s, books, comic magazines, board games. You name it, it’s there.

 

There’s a chess table, a pool table, chairs and couches everywhere. A sound system built into the wall with speakers in every crevice.  Kurt’s eyes flick over once again to the black leather couch where Blaine is hiding. A very, wide and thin Plasma TV screen is hanging from the ceiling in front of it, halfway from the floor, extended by a sturdy metal frame.

 

Kurt walks over to the couch, braces his hands along the top and bends over. “Boo” he smiles; laughing at Blaine’s grinning face looking up at him. He’s spread out wide, two playstation controllers resting in his lap.

 

“Let the games commence.” Blaine announces, patting the space beside him.

 

*

 

Hours later, Kurt is kicking Blaine’s ass, button bashing and yelling at the screen, with Blaine curled up to his side, laughing and yelling also; when it occurs to him that Blaine simply could be…lonely?

 

As smiley as he usually is, Kurt has still never seen Blaine smile quite as much as he has tonight, sharing his home and his space with Kurt. There’s a spring in his step and spark in his eye, more so than usual.

 

This house is amazing, everything in it is amazing. But how cool can one thing be if there is nobody around to share it with? How boring and lonesome must it become?

 

Blaine is the man who has everything and yet somehow…not enough?

 

Where are his friends? Kurt wonders. His family? Why doesn’t he have a cook, a cleaner? Does he live on take-out every night or dine out? Where are his fans and the flash of cameras outside of his windows just dying to get a glimpse of Blaine Anderson’s home life?

 

There are none. It’s non-existent.

 

Blaine pauses the game noticing that Kurt’s heart isn’t quite in it anymore and sits up straight, looking over at Kurt questionably.

 

And Kurt gets it, he _sees_ it in the set of Blaine’s jaw and the flinch of his Adam’s apple when he swallows. Blaine might like to have a budding relationship with Kurt eventually, but before he gets there he needs to learn how to have a friendship. He needs companionship.

 

Maybe something, that he has never had the joy of knowing.   

 

And it’s then when Kurt looks back at Blaine, slowly blinking, understanding settling deep within him that he realizes something he _himself_  needs. Something that _he_ has never had the joy of knowing, either.

 

Maybe, whatever this is between them is a two-way street, after all. Maybe they can beat the odds. 


	11. Chapter 11

The next time that Kurt sees Blaine again after cooking dinner together and playing games in Blaine’s glorious but solitary condo is actually the following day; via the magic of Television.

 

Kurt is spending his Sunday morning cleaning up around the apartment and Tai is down in the building’s laundry room doing his fair share of chores while he recites something in his head for a class.

 

Kurt has some studying to do but honestly? Sitting down quietly is just not something he feels like he can do right now. He needs movement and distraction. Anything to keep the weight of how he felt yesterday at Blaine’s off of his mind.

 

The weight of how natural it all seemed and how content he was just to be sitting with Blaine, hanging out as _friends_. The simple _knowing_ that his presence alone was making Blaine happy and smiley more than he’d ever seen him.

 

They’d never really spoken much last night after dinner, other than running commentary on whatever game they were playing. There’d barely been any flirty innuendos, just the odd joke that made Blaine, _Blaine_ _._ Kurt was glad of it, truthfully. He didn’t know if he could talk to Blaine on a deeper level. Too scared of what questions would come out and the answers that would surface. Too afraid of the feelings he would admit and the realizations that would be made.

 

It had been a real eye-opener for Kurt to discover just how alone Blaine seemed when not in front of the camera. How different his life was behind closed doors. And Kurt wanted- he wants that. _That_ life. Why? And why ever did Blaine? Does he still now? Is Kurt simply his escape back to normalization? 

 

When lightly prompted on the subject of friends by Kurt, Blaine had barely answered; instead choosing to shrug and quietly mumble “It comes with the territory.”

 

But, according to Blaine everything in his life “comes with the territory.” Does that include them? Their relation- their friendship. The undeniable spark that is lit between them?

 

A thought spirals back in to Kurt’s mind. A memory from first meeting Blaine. A barrage of words that Blaine had told him. Maybe they weren’t all a pack of lies after all. 

 

The thing is, Kurt needs to make sense of his own mind before he can try to begin to decipher Blaine’s.

 

As Kurt flitters about his apartment— a feather duster in one hand and an old rag-cloth in the other, he has the TV switched on to provide some background noise.

 

In between polishing the wooden coffee table and dusting the floor underneath it, Kurt is interrupted by the sound of a very familiar voice emanating from the television set.

 

On his hands and knees on the hardwood floor, he braces one hand on the coffee table and straightens, looking straight at the TV. Blaine’s handsome face is staring back at him through the glass, his eyes dark with a smouldering expression; and as the camera pans out, Kurt uses the rag in his hand to fan himself.

 

TV Blaine is lounging by a sparkling, cerulean swimming pool— somewhere sunny and obviously hot. His body is tanned and buff, glistening with oil, his hair slicked back with subtle water droplets cascading down his temples. He’s wearing the tiniest pair of navy swimming trunks that Kurt has ever seen.

 

 _Nothing_ is left to the imagination.

 

Blaine opens his mouth and says something short and precise. Probably the name of the cologne or brand he’s advertising but Kurt doesn’t hear him, he can’t pull his eyes away from... _Blaine_ _!_ With a short burst of sultry music the ad ends and Blaine’s gorgeous face and lilting voice is soon replaced by an anti-climaxing toilet cleaner ad.

 

Still fanning himself, Kurt gets up on to his feet and wanders over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, tossing the rag and feather duster down onto the couch. His phone sits on the counter below the cupboard where the drinking glasses are kept.

 

There’s barely a moment’s hesitation as his eyes catch the phone before he quickly reaches out and snatches up the device; his tongue poking out in a grin while his thumbs fly over the screen’s keypad. **You didn’t tell me you had a new ad coming out… were you feeling the heat or just approaching laundry day? ;)**

 

The reply is almost instant and Kurt feels his insides somersault excitedly. **Didn’t I? Either way I gather that it’s earned your interest? ;p** Kurt feels his face heat and then there’s another chime and a buzz, and then another. **Hi, by the way :)**

**It’s nice to hear from you. I told you just to stay over last night, then we could have continued our epic gaming battle over breakfast and I wouldn’t be missing you right now. X**

Kurt snickers, bites his lip and sags down over one of the counter-tops, his elbows keeping him upright while he holds his phone steady in his hands. His sigh is blissful as it escapes his lips no matter how hard he had tried to keep it bitten down.

 

There was a tiny part of him tempted to stay with Blaine last night, he can’t lie. Not like _that_ —they would have probably ended up falling asleep pressed against each other on Blaine’s gaming couch, or he’s pretty sure he would have found an impressive-sized comfortable mattress going spare in one of Blaine’s many bedrooms.

 

It was the friendship that had made him want to stay; or to even _think_ about wanting to stay. It was the strange relentless pull towards Blaine he had felt throughout the evening; like Blaine was a poor, homeless kitten that had just been rescued and re-homed and couldn’t face being left alone a minute more. 

 

Kurt had felt like the human companion in that scenario. Not wanting to leave the poor animal alone, something in his heart keeping him there like an anchor.

 

It was Kurt’s head that made him eventually bid Blaine goodnight and allow his personal driver to take him home.

 

Not his heart.

 

Kurt shakes his thoughts away and decides to reply with something a little more light hearted rather than the volcano of thoughts waiting to erupt in his mind. **Ha! You can’t even cook. What would our breakfast be? Cheerio’s?**

**Ah, but you see, my dearest Kurt—I have a personal chef now. X** Kurt barks out a laugh, shaking his head.

 

**Oh, do you now?**

**I believe I do, yes :) X!** Kurt cradles the phone to his chest, thinking about what to write back when the thing buzzes in his hand and vibrates against him. Kurt feels the vibrations pulse right through to his heart, almost. **I know that you said you had house work and studying to get done today, but would you be free later? I feel a little stir-crazy in here today! X**

Kurt can’t help but wonder in what way is Blaine feeling ‘stir-crazy’? Is it his confinement within the walls of his mansion? Like a lonely prince in a castle full of riches but with no other to call his own.

 

Or maybe is it within the confinements of his own heart…or even, _maybe_ Kurt’s?

 

No matter what or which way he looks at it, Kurt knows his answer. He’s been undoubtedly pining a little himself ever since returning home last night and it’s _not_ just for anything or anyone.

 

It’s for _someone_.

 

He sends a quick reply then heads off to his room to get ready.

 

As quick and simple as that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I’m sorry about the slightly short/filler chapter. I’m honestly struggling with this at the moment. We’ll get to a conclusion with these boys asap. Thanks for hanging in there with me.


	12. Chapter 12

It’s been a month since Kurt first came face to face with the one and only Blaine Anderson. It’s admittedly not been an easy month, partly due to the fact that apart from Tai and a small number of Blaine’s team, nobody is aware of their weird and wonderful budding friendship…and whatever else is blossoming on the still shaded-horizon.

 

It has proven to be considerably difficult to keep the truth from Isabelle, and whenever Kurt’s in class or in the office and somebody absent-mindedly mentions how amazing Blaine looked in whatever shoot or interview or live-aired TV event they recently saw him in, Kurt has to bite his lip and look the other way or make excuses to leave the room. It’s too hard not to add his own personal opinions and anecdotes of Blaine. The Blaine _he_ knows.

 

In a short amount of time Kurt has very quickly become accustomed to the fact that he and Blaine are mostly limited when it comes to when and where they choose to ‘hangout’ together.

 

He has already gathered that Blaine prefers Kurt’s apartment to his own, that’s not exactly a secret. It’s a little further out of the way and there’s risk of more exposure going in and out of the building. The only time they’d choose to hangout there would be for an intensive gaming session in Blaine’s state of the art games room. But Blaine being _Blaine_ has already recently resolved that issue by stealthily depositing a PS4 with all the trimmings in Kurt and Tai’s living room with claims that he had no idea how it got there. Neither Tai or Kurt had the chance to argue about it.

 

But sometimes lounging around at Kurt’s is just not an option with him having a roommate. Though, as lovely, understanding and quiet as Tai is— Kurt still feels a little weird about inviting Blaine to their place when he’s around.

 

Because of course it’s not exactly the most normal or conventional of friendships that they have. They can hardly discuss class assignments, study rituals together or even something silly but normal like celebrity crushes. Though Blaine does try to, but Kurt just gives him a dismissive look that loosely translates to “this is a weird conversation to be having with you and I’m ending it now.”

 

Their friendship— the whole _situation_ is still very new and fresh and wonderfully odd. It’s something that was hard to swallow at first but now with every passing moment spent with and communicating in some way with Blaine, is becoming easier to accept.

 

Its novel and appealing and Kurt can finally admit (in his own head) that Blaine as irritating and imposing as he can be at times, doesn’t appear to be going away anytime soon. He’s not a big threat to Kurt’s life or wellbeing or even future career, he’s just like a big puppy who has found his favorite human. He has chosen to irritate and impose _on_ Kurt— _Only Kurt_. And Kurt can’t deny that he loves it. It makes him feel special, a one in a million.

 

For today’s date (because no matter how much he tries to deny it—when ever he and Blaine ‘hang out’ it is in fact a date no matter how they choose to spend it,) they are sitting sipping on ginger ale cocktails and munching on a shared bowl of nacho’s in a closed pub downtown.

 

The pub ‘Harrisons’ is owned by a close friend of Blaine’s (Harry) whose husband (Nate, an equally close friend) is a photographer and director who has also worked with Blaine a number of times. Blaine has jumped to Nate’s aid and volunteered his good-looks and model poses every time he has been asked to, therefore when Blaine needs somewhere empty to hangout, somewhere he can eat, drink, dance and listen to music and just be relatively normal—the pub is always at his disposal.

 

It’s quite a small space but it’s decorated in bright creams and reds, with leather sofas and booths to make it seem bigger and lighter. There’s a small built-in stage with a big screen above it in the far corner, diagonal to the bar, where karaoke competitions sometimes commence and buskers appear with their instruments wanting to be heard.

 

The bar is currently unmanned with strict instructions for Blaine and ‘guest’ to help themselves to whatever they want. Nate said he’d back by 11 to lock up and it’s only just past 7 now.

 

Blaine is humming along and tapping his foot to whatever is playing on the pre-programmed jukebox while he scoops up some hot, melted cheese on to the tip of his tortilla chip.

 

“You’re so bad for my diet” Kurt muses, swirling his straw around his interestingly shaped glass while he chews on his latest mouthful of cheesy goodness.

 

It’s true. Because of who Blaine _is_ it’s very hard to do anything together other than sitting locked away behind closed doors eating and drinking away their frustration.

 

Blaine grins up at him and nudges his foot against Kurt’s under their small square table. Kurt has his chair on one side of the table and Blaine has not so subtly scooted his chair along so that he’s sitting on the corner of the table, just inches away from Kurt.

 

“Pfft. What diet? You’re perfect!” Blaine responds smoothly.

 

Kurt tries to hide his blush by raising his glass to his lips and looking down into it while he sips. “Too bad you can’t go out in public without being mobbed. We could have jogged home to shift some of this.” He mumbles teasingly when he puts his glass back down.

 

“Aww, you’d fight them off for me, wouldn’t you?” Blaine whines in a playful, sing-songy voice. Another nudge under the table, though this time his foot lingers a little. Blaine’s wearing a pair of his famous Capri’s rolled up to his ankles; his bare, warm skin brushes against Kurt’s lower shin and even though he’s covered by skin-tight denim he can _feel_ it.

 

Kurt is left a little speechless after this move of Blaine’s, (one of the few things he has on his cons list when weighing up the pros and cons of hanging out with Blaine,) he glances away, tries to cool his heated skin and regulate his breathing.

 

Truth is? Even though Blaine is a big boy and has a squad of professional, fully qualified bodyguards on hand to keep him from the ‘crazies’ as Blaine likes to call them—the answer is yes. Kurt thinks that he _would_ fight them off. Or at least have at them with his wit and sharp tongue.  

 

Nothing has been more enlightening than learning Blaine inside and out, even though he’s just beginning. No matter how much annoyance and frustration he had displayed for Blaine, how jealous (now that he can finally admit it) he is of what Blaine has and all he has achieved; Kurt can’t help but get defensive on his behalf and somewhat protective.

 

It’s so hard for Blaine to make friends—real genuine friends who want to be friends with him for him not for who he is and what he has. That had been the hardest part for Kurt to come to terms with at first. That Blaine had simply followed Kurt and latched on to him like a stray because he knew that he had to earn Kurt’s approval and friendship. 

 

But now that Blaine has it and now that Kurt understands more on a deeper, personal level, Kurt cares less about himself and his own turmoil and issues and begins to care more about the companionship he has with Blaine. Because truthfully? He’s never had anything like it before. He has Tai and his family back home, but that’s all. And it’s quite minimal and just slightly too ordinary in comparison to what he seems to have with Blaine.

 

Blaine is offering him something new and different and _more._ And maybe Kurt can have more than one dream. He can fit somebody else into his plans and agenda. Somebody who already has a pretty strong agenda of their own—but now Kurt doesn’t feel so inferior to that idea. 

 

Kurt watches as Blaine shrugs one shoulder, dips his chin and grins all at the same time—a tell tale sign that a humorous quip or innuendo or a crazy idea of some kind is coming his way.

 

“You know there are- I have a private gym? I can request to have it emptied whenever you—”

 

Kurt’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. It’s good job he doesn’t have anything in his mouth right now because he’s pretty sure he would have spat it out all over the table.

 

Is Blaine really implying what Kurt _thinks_ he’s implying? Gym buddies? A buffed up Blaine in a tight tank top and shorts, gorgeously glistening with sweat, panting, biceps bulging while he lifts weights and strains every muscle along his powerful thighs and broad back and strong chest?

 

_Oh my god!_

“Umm, I-I think I’ll just stick to my workout videos and yoga in my bedroom. Alone. Um, thanks.” _Because that would be one of the most embarrassing moments to ever occur in my life. And Blaine wouldn’t have had to say or do a thing! It would be all me and my anatomy and body parts…_

Blaine grins at Kurt’s mumbling interruption and presses his lips together. His eyes flash bright and brilliant and his smile grows wider and Kurt just knows that the fucker is somehow reading his mind.

 

“No problem” he says airily, “just keep it in mind.” He goes back to picking at the nachos and brushes a finger tip around the rim of his glass, smiling to himself like the gorgeous jackass he is.

 

Blaine has been a little more casual in his approach the past few months, but no less forward. He wouldn’t be Blaine if he wasn’t forward. He still makes his feelings towards Kurt very obvious but has made it clear that as along as he’s with Kurt in someway then that’s good enough for him.

 

He respects Kurt, that much is obvious and in return Blaine and his expanding book of manners and proper etiquette is _growing_ on Kurt. Very much so.

 

“Kurt?” Blaine asks softly after a few moments of quiet between them, with just the gentle rhythmic beat of background music coming from the wall speakers.

 

Moments of silence between them like this are not a rarity, nor are they awkward or uncomfortable; when one or both of them don’t speak, instead choosing to listen to other sounds around them or gaze off somewhere other than the other’s face. It’s a sign of how comfortable they together and a dead give-away to Kurt that he has finally found a friend in Blaine and in such a short amount of time too.

 

Funny, huh?

 

Kurt looks up at Blaine from where he staring vacantly at a smudge on the table. “Hmm?”

 

Blaine smiles and hesitates a little before he speaks. Kurt can always tell when Blaine is thinking about what he needs to say and how he’s going to say it by the way his hazel eyes shimmer—deep in thought and then wrinkle at the corners. “Would- you know that we don’t have to keep behind closed doors, right? Not anymore anyway.”

 

Kurt gives a soft sigh and smiles. It’s a small smile but it’s there, one that seems to be reserved just for Blaine. _Oh,_ _this again._

This is not the first time that one of them has broached this subject. When it had been Kurt, it had come from a place of fear and nerves, unknowingness and sheer stubbornness.

 

Blaine has mentioned it twice now, and both times he has had hope shining in his eyes, his head held high with courage and bravery and happiness.

 

It’s safe to say that they’re both not exactly on the same page with this one. 

 

“I know that, Blaine. Thank you.” Kurt says sincerely. The answer he means but doesn’t say is clear without the words distinctively coming out of his mouth.

 

 _No, I can’t._ There’s too much at stake for Kurt. As relaxed and less-jealous of Blaine as he is now, he still wants his own career and he can’t risk it being labelled on the back of Blaine’s.

 

Kurt really does mean it though when he give his thanks and he appreciates the thought and the kindness in Blaine’s voice when ever the topic is raised. It’s clear how very sorry Blaine is that they appear to be in constant hiding together. At first it had been necessary, even Blaine hadn’t wanted to expose either of them to the limelight.

 

But now it’s almost as if Blaine wants to; like he’s found something- _someone_ that’s finally worth showing off about.

 

But Kurt is- he’s just not ready. Not yet. Not for cake and _then_ desert.

 

Blaine nods, he looks a little sad but he sits up straight and squares his shoulders, determined not to be disappointed. He’s getting good at not pushing the limits or over-stepping boundaries. _Most_ times.

 

“I just wanted you to know” he says, “You know, that it’s not me that’s hiding away. I mean yes at first I wanted something normal to distract me from my insane life. Something that was just mine and only mine.” Kurt’s heart races a little while Blaine keeps talking. “but now I—”

 

Kurt holds his breath while Blaine seems to pause to catch his. He breathes out steadily, appearing to collect his thoughts as his eyes slip closed for a moment. “I’ve said this to you before. You’re like a breath of fresh air, Kurt” Blaine breathes, reopening his eyes. “After what feels like a long, long time of breathing in contaminated words and lies. And people. You’re not just a momentary fix for me. For this craziness I call a life.”

 

Blaine takes Kurt’s hand between their glasses on the table and pulls him in as close and comfortable as he can. “You know, I had assumed that meeting you was just _chance_. _”_ Blaine pauses and smiles, staring into Kurt’s eyes so deep and longing. “Now? I’m not so sure.”


	13. Chapter 13

After what feels like forever including a lot of long months filled with tiring, busy days, Kurt finally graduates at the top of his class and is offered a place on the masters degree program beginning in September after the summer break. One of his favourite professors has also offered him a TA position in one of her first year classes to give him extra credit and experience.  

 

His internship with Vogue is nearing the end of his second year and Isabelle has (obviously) offered him a permanent contract as her assistant on her creative team, exclaiming that she just couldn’t bear to let him go.

 

Tai has sadly broke the news that he’s moving back home for a while now that he’s finished college. He doesn’t think he needs a place in New York anymore—what he wants to do with his future will hopefully take him over-seas, and he wants to spend some time with his family before that happens.

 

Blaine is attending a movie premier this Saturday night and has casually asked Kurt to join him—as if it’s no big deal at all. Kurt is yet to say anything at all on that matter.

 

It’s a midweek evening and Kurt sits on his bed with his head in his hands, frantic and frustrated, not knowing what to do about any of the choices he’s recently been presented with. 

 

There are so many offers and choices. So much opportunity for just one person, anybody would be lucky and privileged to land where Kurt is right now, and yet—he feels somehow lost. Stuck. _Why?_

He tries to weigh up his options in an appropriate manner and check off the good against the bad points.

 

He’s glad that he doesn’t have to attend any classes anymore. If he does his masters degree, (though, an awesome opportunity as it is) there will be a lot more classes for the next 12-18 months. Does he really need another qualification behind him to get where he needs to be? Could he juggle such a challenging degree, alongside his future career prospects?

 

Working full time at Vogue with Isabelle would be amazing—but they don’t have a stage or an audience waiting to applaud on their feet. He loves fashion but does he want to be tied down that road for the next few years of his life—potentially the most important ones? Fashion is something that has been and always will be a huge part of him. He can still have that part with him no matter where he is or what he does with his life.

 

And then of course there’s Blaine. Adding him to the mix alongside anything is challenging enough with his popular status and jetsetter lifestyle. And although Kurt tries to tell himself that he doesn’t have to find a place for Blaine in any of this—he finds it impossible to do so. Because Blaine in fact _has_ become an integral part of his current life. He’s a friend, a smiley face to turn to when he needs one. He’s Kurt’s own something _more._ Something that nobody else has.

 

His bedroom door suddenly creaks open a smidgen and Kurt smiles into his hands before dropping them to his lap. Tai is working his last shift tonight and everyone knows what _that_ means.

 

Blaine nudges the door open with his shoulder and comes into the room holding two champagne flutes full to brim with something sweet and bubbly—something that he obviously brought with him because Kurt and Tai have never owned such luxury items.

 

Blaine takes a seat on the bed beside Kurt and hands him a glass. Silently they clink their glasses together and take a sip. In that moment Kurt is thankful for Blaine, for his mere presence and the comfort that it brings.

 

Kurt’s official graduation was last weekend but Blaine was kindly asked to stay away while Kurt’s family came to visit to celebrate with him. It had pained Kurt a little more than he’d expected or care to admit to hear the hurt in Blaine’s voice when he’d called him last week to ask him nicely not to make a song and dance about it.

 

Above everything, Kurt’s just not quite prepared yet to introduce Blaine as a part of his life—whatever part that may be. 

 

Together, they sit on Kurt’s bed, crossed-legged, knee to knee— and Kurt doesn’t feel at all self-conscious. Yes, Blaine likes to be close to Kurt, that much is obvious. He’ll touch him in any _clothed_ way that he can, or maybe a bare ankle or elbow—just for the closeness and the nearness of him. And Kurt has grown used to it. _Fond_ of it, actually.

 

He doesn’t worry about Blaine’s flirtatious nature. He’ll come on to Kurt but it won’t amount to anything. They’ve set their boundaries and Blaine respects that—but it doesn’t stop him letting Kurt know how attractive he finds him.

 

It’s almost as if the tables have turned and now Kurt finds it quite difficult to bite his tongue when a suggestive comment or complimentary word creeps up his throat and sits waiting on the tip of his tongue.

 

He doesn’t know how he’s going to broach _that_ conversation with Blaine. How to tell him that his feelings changing? _They have changed._ Could he deal with Blaine’s no doubt smug reaction once he admits that there is a connection between them. A smouldering attraction that will not diffuse.

 

He decides to shelve the topic for now. Save it for a time when he doesn’t have to worry about not just his future but what he’s going to do in the present tense, like _tomorrow_.         

 

Blaine is quiet beside him and it stays that way for the next few moments. He’s very strangely quiet. Both of them are just sitting glancing around the room, holding their glasses carefully in their hands.

 

Blaine’s eyes flicker to Kurt’s direction. “You know you could live with me? Or I could I move in here?”

 

And that’s it. The ice broken. The unwanted silence dissipated. Because out of everything that Kurt has to think about, _that_ is Blaine’s suggestion. And as funny as it is, Kurt knows that there is a part of Blaine that is being rather serious.

 

And that makes it even funnier. 

 

Kurt laughs and then Blaine laughs and then they’re both draining their glasses and giggling and Blaine is skipping off to the kitchen to get the remainder of the bottle of Bollinger he’d brought.

 

And Kurt’s worries just a little bit less then he was just a few moments ago, the frown on his forehead calming and decreasing. 

 

Later, another bottle has been popped open and they’ve moved in to the living area, both spread out across the couch, their legs tangled together. Blaine had ordered food while Kurt was in the bathroom and now there is quite the variety on offer, all laid out along the coffee table. Kurt had come back in to the room just on time to hear Blaine’s phone voice (the one he uses when he’s trying not to get recognised, and Kurt finds it rather amusing.)

 

Kurt’s busy dipping a mozzarella stick into some sweet chilli sauce when Blaine swipes at his mouth with a napkin, turns to him and says “Kurt, you know that you don’t need anything or anyone else to do what you want to do. You’re _you_. You’re fabulous. You’re the most interesting person I know.” His voice is a little slurred and lazy but his face is very serious with a lot of finger pointing going on.

 

Kurt nods and grins in all the right places as Blaine continues his on-going tirade. He’s just happy that Blaine has moved on to trying to give more appropriate advice and help rather than suggesting shacking up together. _Honestly._

 

Blaine’s right. Kurt knows this. He needs to get himself out there. He doesn’t need to rely on anybody else to get him where he needs. He’s got a good education and a boat load of experience behind his belt—that’s better than nothing. That’s enough.

 

He’s silently contemplating this current train of thought when Blaine (always somehow knowing what he’s thinking about) breaks the silence with a prod of his finger to Kurt’s ribcage, causing them both to giggle before he gets all serious again.

 

“Don’t bite my head off here, ok?” He starts cautiously, which of course causes Kurt to prepare to indeed bite Blaine’s head off if needs be “but you do know that I could help you out here- I could ask around, pull a few strings—”

 

Kurt points a finger straight up in Blaine’s face, effectively shushing him. “—don’t even finish that sentence, Blaine Anderson.” It’s not exactly a _head-biting_ tone but its stern and Blaine gets the point.

 

Blaine pouts, puts on the puppy eyes and drops his chin almost to his chest, though still nodding sullenly. He gets it. 

 

Kurt knows that just one phone call from Blaine will get him exactly where he wants to be in life. But he doesn’t want to do it that way. He’s not playing _that_ game. This is exactly the reason why he didn’t want to meet Blaine in the first place. He has something to prove, no matter how much he likes Blaine now; he still has to prove he can make it on his own.

 

He also knows that it would be a hell of a lot easier to let Blaine help him out that way. The connection between them would be made, they would be outed as friends or maybe (probably) rumoured to be something more and then that would be their free pass to go out in public together.

 

But with that comes the shit-storm of questions, the paps, the pictures, the _everything._

He’s kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place, but if he had to make a split-second decision he’ll still go with his instincts and do things his way—even if his relationship with Blaine is put on hold.

 

“I guess that means Saturday is a definite no?” Blaine asks quietly when he looks  back up at Kurt.  

 

Kurt tilts his head to the side and looks at Blaine tenderly. He can’t help but feel sorry for him a little. “I’m sorry, Blaine. I just can’t risk that exposure. Not yet, not until I make a dent of my own in your crazy world. Something with _my_ stamp on it and not just ‘ _friend of Blaine Anderson’_.”

 

Blaine regards Kurt carefully. There’s a quirk to his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. “If it makes you feel better you could be ‘ _boyfriend of Blaine Anderson’_?”  

 

Kurt cracks and lets out a giggle which makes Blaine smile his megawatt smile, the one that should be called ‘the Kurt smile’.

 

Blaine has managed to do it again; to break the tension and cheer Kurt up with just a small dose of his inappropriateness. And because of that Kurt decides to reward him.

 

He leans in and presses the shortest of chaste kisses to Blaine’s slightly stubbly cheek— but it’s enough to make Blaine’s eyes widen and his cheeks color with heat in two adorable little patches of pink.

 

 _Could it be that Blaine Anderson is blushing?_ Kurt feels his chest fill with a strange sense of pride and his heart seems to thump harder against his ribcage.

 

Blaine schools his features back into something more normal to get his ego back on track. “Was that an answer?” He asks, his voice low and velvety, enough to make Kurt’s skin prickle with gooseflesh.

 

Kurt swallows hard and begins to shrug his shoulders before thinking better of it and ends up with a vehement shake of his head.

 

Blaine smirks at Kurt’s reaction and gently boops at his nose with the pad of his thumb. He leaves it there for a second before stretching his fingers out and reaching them across Kurt’s face to tenderly cup his cheek.

 

Kurt inhales a quick breath, but it’s not deep enough. Blaine’s gaze is too intense, deep and dark and yet somehow languidly staring back at him.

 

Of course the moment is interrupted by the sound of Tai unlocking the front door and stepping in with an open mouth and a question in his eyes. “Oh, am I interrupting? S-sorry.”

 

Kurt smiles, breaking eye contact with Blaine to look over at his helpless friend. He knows that Blaine will be cursing Tai in his own head. “S’ok, Tai. Come on in, you want some food? How was your last shift? We have champagne, we could celebrate?”

 

Kurt glances across at Blaine wanting to try and gauge his reaction and when Blaine looks back at him, Kurt’s belly gives a pleasant kick like a wave of butterflies.

 

Blaine’s face is open and happy with an easy smile on his face. He hops up almost instantly on to his feet to shake hands with Tai and congratulate him on graduating before walking him over to the kitchen to get him a champagne flute.

 

Kurt watches the pair almost in awe and feels another happy kick in his belly when Blaine looks back and sends a knowing wink his way. “So, Tai we’ve never really had the chance to get properly acquainted, and I think it’s time that we did.” Blaine says like some kind of business proposal.

 

Tai smiles at him weirdly, his eyes flickering between Blaine and Kurt; and Kurt barks out a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

 

Because, really what are the chances? 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is kinda a little bit of what you were all waiting for?!?

Kurt spends the next few weeks throwing himself in to an extensive search for auditions to attend in and around New York. He’s successful in his hunt for the most part and attends a handful of auditions set in a colourful variety of places.

 

He’s decided, after many painful hours of careful deliberation, to _not_ return to college. He’d thought about all of those kids that go off on a gap-year travelling and partying. This is _his_ gap year. If he doesn’t succeed, he can always go back to college, gain a masters degree then go back to the streets and start again.

 

Either way he’s not giving up. He has too much time and opportunity on his side to even consider that as an option.

 

It’s not too long before he’s offered a role in a one-off production playing villager number 3, followed by a dancer in a voluntary performance in Times Square, a chorus member in another unsteady production and then a tiny cameo for an advertisement about New York’s gay clubbing scene.

 

None of it is very desirable, well paid, glamorous or long lasting to say the least, but at least its actual work in the area he wants to be in. It’s a start. Producers and directors, no matter how well known they are, are beginning to recognise his face and his name is travelling steadily down the grapevine after each job he takes.

 

It’s not ideal, but he’s young and he has his whole life ahead of him; he can’t do much more than what he’s currently doing so he settles for being happy and proud of what he’s achieved so far.

 

That is unless he caves and allows Blaine to build an easy, crack-free pathway straight to the top for him.

 

But he won’t- _he can’t_. He’s come too far to give in and seek out the cheat codes now. His pride wont let him.      

 

Kurt also decides that it’s both wise and beneficial for him to keep working at Vogue with Isabelle. He can’t rely on the roles he’s currently being offered to bring in a big pay check just yet, so he takes a part-time contract working Monday to Thursday mornings, giving him his afternoons and weekends free for auditions.

 

He’s happy that he still has a great working relationship and a pretty solid friendship with Isabelle. She’s like an older sister or an adopted mama to him; which is why it’s becoming even more difficult with every passing second to not mention his and Blaine’s _whatever they are_ to her. After all _she_ is pretty much the cause of it.

 

He’ll tell her. He will. But not yet. He needs everything to be cemented just right; concrete with no room for cracks before he starts opening up about the superstar who has wedged his way into Kurt’s life—and his heart.

 

An ad for a new roommate had been posted the day after Tai told Kurt he was moving out. He’s still waiting for at least _one_ reply.

 

Tai packed up and left about a week ago— but not without paying what he owed for their current 6 months lease on the apartment.

 

On their last night together, Tai asked if Blaine wanted to come over to join them for takeout and a beer. Sadly, Blaine had prior engagements as a star guest on a late night chat show, but in his absence had booked and pre-paid Kurt and Tai a table at an exclusive, hot new restaurant down town; following reservations in a VIP booth in the adjoining bar, with an open tab all night.

 

Kurt had spent the night tipsy and happy, still a little sad for the loss of his roommate, but managed to distract himself from the sadness by drunk-texting Blaine his joy and thanks for what he did for his friend.

 

Kurt then spent the next morning regretting it with an accompanied headache. Blaine won’t let him forget about it, obviously.

 

Tai’s departure had been strangely hard for Kurt. Kurt had always thought of Tai as _just Tai,_ his roommate. He doesn’t know exactly when they transitioned into friends and then close allies, but he’s pretty sure it’s around the time when Blaine came on the scene. Tai’s faith and reassurance and complete loyalty in Kurt, his career and dare he say love-life has been refreshing, overwhelming and insightful. Kurt knows that Tai will take his secrets to the grave with him.

 

They’ve made a pact to skype every week and Tai has even made Blaine promise to contact him if Kurt ever needs anything. Kurt’s pretty sure that a ‘don’t hurt my little brother’ type of talk went down between the two of them at some point but he doesn’t dare ask about it.    

 

After facing the facts that he’s just not going to find somebody who wants to share his tiny apartment with him (apart from Blaine), Kurt gives his landlord his one months notice and begins looking for somewhere smaller and cheaper to live.

 

“I just can’t believe you” Blaine mumbles, folded into one corner of the couch, watching sulkily as Kurt circles available apartments in the local newspaper with a red sharpie.

 

It’s a late, rainy morning and neither of them have anything to be doing other than being in each other’s company, as usual. 

 

Kurt smirks and kicks Blaine playfully from his own corner of the couch. In his child-like tantrum, Blaine had wriggled away from Kurt and untangled their legs to go and sit by himself with his arms crossed and knees bent up to his chest.

 

Kurt had found it all very amusing but was also shocked to feel how much he missed Blaine—who was just inches away from him. Their lingering touches, crossed legs and skin on skin had become almost like second-nature to Kurt now.

 

“I have a huge place with so many bedrooms and here you are looking for somewhere else. I wouldn’t even charge you rent.” Blaine exclaims, his voice going high and squeaky, hands and arms flailing in the air.

 

Kurt rolls his eyes, “that’s the problem. I’m not a playmate. I told you that I sincerely appreciate the offer but I cannot live with you, especially not for free.”

 

A moment of silence follows and Kurt already knows what’s coming. “You could…pay me back in other ways?” Blaine replies slowly and softly. Kurt doesn’t have to look at Blaine to know that there’s a playful grin and a teasing glint in his eyes. Kurt rolls up the paper in his hands, swats Blaine with it a couple of times then goes back to house hunting with Blaine peering over his shoulder the entire time.

 

Conversations of the same variety continue for the next couple weeks until Kurt finally, _somehow_ finds the perfect place to live in the shape of a one bed-roomed studio apartment, ready to move in to immediately—and at a steal of a price.

 

It’s recently been renovated and re-decorated, meaning that nothing needs done for Kurt to move in. It’s clean and bright, with fresh hardwood floors— and it’s oddly not even that small inside, quite the opposite actually. The bathroom is spacious and tiled in turquoise and the kitchen is chic with bare redbrick walls and cream granite counters; _and_ it can fit at least three or four people in comfortably _all_ at the same time.

 

It’s located right in the heart of the city, easy to get to for Vogue and Kurt’s current handful of jobs. There are plenty of theaters and production offices nearby which Kurt has already spied some audition listings for.

 

 _And_ , as if it needed a bigger bonus—it’s just a few blocks over from the village—meaning just a few blocks over from _Blaine_ _._ Kurt doesn’t share his initial excitement about how close they will be living too each other, but if Blaine was trying to play it cool—his face is a total give away.

 

This gives Kurt reason to speculate.

 

The cost of his monthly rent for an apartment like _that_ had been too good to be true that Kurt almost didn’t apply— thinking it must have been a scam of some kind. It was Blaine who talked him into applying. It was Blaine who helped him with all the paperwork and hired a team of movers. Thinking about it, it was actually Blaine who found the place for Kurt on some private renting website.

  

Blaine is oddly quiet on Kurt’s moving day. He’s inside the apartment helping to unpack boxes after they’re unloaded from the moving van—not wanting to be seen hovering around on the street outside. He seems bright and upbeat while putting away Kurt’s brand new set of kitchen utensils (one of Blaine’s many new home gifts), he just doesn’t talk much. There’s definitely something going on that Kurt can’t quite put a finger on. 

 

Later when Kurt is completely moved in and it’s just the two of them left, sitting on rugs and cushions on the floor with takeout cartons and checklists of what needs to go where, Kurt questions him.

 

“You’ve been acting odd today.” He says, eyeing Blaine carefully while he tops up their celebratory champagne glasses—another of Blaine’s gifts.  

 

Blaine just shrugs, not even hiding the small but obvious grin on his lips. “It’s been a long week, I’m just tired… but I’m ok—I’m happy.” Kurt stares at him speculatively until Blaine raises his glass and says “Happy moving day. Here’s to a long, happy life in your new home.”

 

Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine but grins and giggles anyway. He takes a tentative sip from his glass. “Wait, you said it’s been a long week. Doing what? You’ve been with me most of the time and you’ve just been sitting on your laptop engrossed in something.” Kurt takes a second to mull this over. “In fact your eyes have been glued to your computer screen for the past couple weeks—” Kurt trails off when Blaine’s grin turns a little sheepish, his eyes darting around the room to look anywhere but at Kurt.

 

“What have you been doing on your computer, Blaine?” Kurt gets out through slightly gritted teeth.

 

“I have a new hobby” is all Blaine replies with quietly, simple and sure. It doesn’t take much for the pieces to all fall into place. Kurt sighs hard and heavy before taking a long drink from his glass. 

 

“Property development? Real Estate?” Kurt prompts, the glass pressed to his lips while he talks. He’s surprisingly calm.

 

After a dramatic pause Blaine lets out a monumental sigh and rolls his eyes in a way that he could only have learnt from Kurt. Kurt almost lets a giggle escape at the sight of it.

 

“Kurt, I couldn’t just sit around and let you become homeless or worse—live in the slums.” Now it’s Kurt’s turn to roll his eyes, much like Blaine just did moments before. “Not, when I’m perfectly capable of doing something about it. This way, you don’t have to worry about paying rent every month if you can’t quite make the payments—you know if there is a lack of auditions or something. This apartment is yours and nobody will take it away from you.”

 

Kurt’s face softens and something fractures in his eyes. He exhales a shaky breath and tries to look away but Blaine’s eyes are just too deep and warm and inviting.

 

“I just want to help you, Kurt.” Blaine whispers, leaning in over their stack of half empty cartons, he butt-shuffles closer so that their crossed legs are almost over lapping each other’s. “Without worrying about paying rent each month you can concentrate on your career. I’m so proud of you, of how you’re handling it all and taking control. Not letting anything or anyone, including _me_ overpower you and your decisions.”

 

Kurt swallows, and then swallows again. His throat is tight and his breaths are coming out shallow. Before he has a chance to say or do anything Blaine starts speaking again. “I’m not breaking the rules, here. You’re still renting, it’s yours— but just without the added worry or stress. And, you’re only a few minutes away so that will make it easier for me to get to you unseen. And, you know thinking about it, my place really isn’t all that bad—not with you there every now and then.” He has a hand outstretched on Kurt’s knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles in to his denim jeans, moving up closer and closer to this thigh and then back down again.

 

His smile is so wide and bright it makes Kurt’s heart ache. He’s so full of promise and hope. Kurt is _lost_ in the feeling of Blaine’s touch and his eyes and his smile. He feels lost in everything, but _Blaine_.

 

Blaine lifts up his glass flute that Kurt didn’t know he still had a hold of and tips it forward in a silent toast. “Here’s to the next phase of your life Kurt Hummel.” He whispers.

 

 _Yes, the next phase._ Kurt thinks. His eyes are wide and blinking, staring at Blaine’s gorgeous open face just a breath away. _This is the part where you finally get to join me in this crazy life, Blaine Anderson._

Blaine’s beautiful, long eyelashes flutter close and his grin grows mega-watt when Kurt closes the space between them and finally, _finally_ kisses him. It’s short and chaste but it’s deep and oh-so meaningful.

 

When they pull apart, just slightly and open their eyes the look on Blaine’s face takes Kurt’s breath away.

 

“And here’s to yours, Blaine Anderson.” Kurt breathes against Blaine’s lips before kissing him again, this time not so short and not so chaste but definitely just as deep and just as meaningful.

 

It means _everything._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody, for hanging on in there with me for this. Your reviews and comments mean everything to me.


	15. Chapter 15

Kurt feels warm and relaxed, surrounded by a comforting heavy heat all around him.

He’s loose-limbed and lax, happy to have his body manipulated this way and that under familiar and skilled caressing hands.

 

He’s never felt this way before. So cherished and wanted. He loves the way it feels. _Loves_ that _he_ feels this way, and wonders how he’s went without it for so long. He also wonders if it would have felt the same or different if the person lying on top of him, almost as boneless as _he_ is, wasn’t- _isn’t_ Blaine.

 

He can’t even comprehend the thought before another rasped moan rips its way up his throat and out passed his lips.

 

There’s only really _one_ answer isn’t there?

 

He’s currently lying on his back, stretched out gloriously along the black, suede chaise longue sofa that Blaine had bought him for his living area. The decorative cushions have been tossed carelessly to the floor and Blaine’s hands are up by Kurt’s head, his fingers kneading into his dishevelled hair and massaging his scalp as their still clothed bodies pull and push against each others and they continue to kiss and kiss and _kiss_.

 

Blaine’s lips are searing hot and sinfully soft and wet as they brush over, up and down and in and out of Kurt’s mouth. Their noses nudge together softly and as Blaine’s breath softly hits Kurt’s cheek in a warm whoosh of air, Kurt can smell a hint of spice and wine from their earlier dinner.

 

He can _taste_ it too—on Blaine’s lips and on his tongue, and on the mass of delicious glowing skin between his neck and collarbone.

 

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s strong shoulders, splays his hands across his broad back, fingers gripping at his shirt and lifts up his head to push his nose into Blaine’s curls— loose and free from product, and still a little moist from his afternoon shower after a session with his personal trainer. His hair smells fresh and delicious, with just a lingering hint of herbs— an intoxicating scent that makes Kurt’s head spin.

 

It’s all very frantic and urgent—but not at the same time. They know that they have _this_ now. That they can have each other _this_ way whenever they want. Whenever they _need_. They plan to savour every moment, even Blaine who has been waiting for this a longer time than Kurt has. 

 

Kurt had work today for two different shows. He’d recently been offered the parts, both small and just for a short time but still enough to keep him on the job ladder and his cell phone buzzing with more and more call-backs.

 

It’s Friday, meaning Kurt doesn’t have work at Vogue so he had scheduled a studio recording for one show in the morning followed by a gruelling dance choreography lesson for the other show in the afternoon.

 

Tired and aching, Kurt had arrived home only to find Blaine in his apartment, carrying items from the kitchen to his dining area. The table had been set with a full three-course meal prepared and waiting for him to sit down and enjoy.

 

Wide-eyed and with a slow growing grin, Kurt accepted a kiss from Blaine which was silent but _spoke_ volumes, and sunk down into a chair at the table.

 

Dinner was _gorgeous_. Ok, so it was the exact same meal that had Kurt showed Blaine how to make the first time he went to Blaine’s condo—but the thought and precision from Blaine that had gone in to it delights Kurt all the same.

 

Of course, during dinner Kurt kindly but firmly fires his line of questioning as to how exactly Blaine let himself into Kurt’s apartment, to which Blaine annoyingly charming and effortlessly replies with “every good landlord keeps a spare key, Kurt. You know for emergencies and stuff.”

 

“And you breaking into my apartment and cooking me dinner falls into those categories how?” Kurt quips an eyebrow and tries to hide his grin.

 

“You’ve had a long busy day and I wanted to do something nice for you” Blaine replies sweetly, his voice smooth and mellow. He balances his chin on his hands and smiles widely across the table.

 

Kurt _melts_ and has to stop himself from crawling across the table to get at Blaine and kiss his face off.

 

After dessert they’d moved over to the couch which has lead them to now—eating each others faces as if they hadn’t just ate. The TV is on for a bit of background noise but neither of them are paying it much attention.

 

It’s been a couple weeks since their first kiss and things have only ever progressed and gotten sensationally better since then. They’ve been slow and careful, still keeping behind closed doors but now there’s more to it. Now there’s touching, a hell of a lot more touching anywhere either of them can get to; such as arms and chests when shirts are crumpled out of place, or the bare, sensitive skin at the small of their backs when pants without belts have drooped too low.  

 

Something that has been very surprising and refreshing to Kurt since they took their relationship to the next level is the fact that Blaine has never pushed them. He’s only ever accepted what Kurt is willing to offer him.

 

If he’s honest, Kurt doesn’t know exactly why this surprises him. Yes, in the beginning, Blaine was full of innuendos and flirty invitations—in a way he hasn’t changed that much; he’s still cheeky old Blaine with a diamond smile and twinkling eyes. But more recently he’s become more than that. He knows how to rein it in, how to control himself. He knows how to make Kurt feel comfortable and how not to.

And even more recently there have been _no_ problems with the latter.

 

Blaine is always checking in with Kurt, asking how he feels and how he’s doing. _“Is this ok?”_ It’s all very sweet and endearing and Kurt thrives on it. He looks forward to more. To _getting_ them there.

 

Blaine is busy placing kisses all over Kurt’s face and Kurt has his fingers dipped into the dimples at Blaine’s lower back when a new show on the TV starts up with a loud, familiar theme tune and startles them both.

 

Blaine sits up just a fraction to get a proper look at the TV. His side profile is gorgeous, illuminated by the glow of the TV in the dark of the room. Kurt can’t help but stare. Blaine’s legs are straddling Kurt’s hips and thighs and the denim of his jeans are rubbing into Kurt’s yoga pants. It’s causing a delicious, teasing friction; something that is much too difficult to ignore.

 

Kurt bites his lip and bucks his hips up, just once. Blaine, still looking away from him, smiles slow and seductive and gently meets Kurt hips with his own, riding his torso downwards. Just once. Kurt gasps and Blaine smiles wider, _just_ suppressing a groan. He’s still not looking at him. _Sexy asshole._

 

Their _interest_ in each other is _very_ apparent. It’s what makes it more exciting. Who will snap first?  

 

Kurt weighs up his options. He’s just about to reach up and pull Blaine back down to him when the host on the TV show shouts out a recognisable name and is answered with a thunderous applause and a round of high-pitched wolf whistles by the studio audience.

 

Kurt sits up too and Blaine gently slides off of his lap to sit close beside him. He picks up Kurt’s legs and feet and tucks them into his own lap, his fingers rubbing patterns into the arch of Kurt’s feet.

 

Blaine appears, looking as handsome and dashing as ever at the top of the staircase on the TV and makes his way down through the audience to the stage where the host is sitting at his desk waiting for him.

 

“Is this the one you did on Tai’s last night here, when you couldn’t make it?” Kurt asks, smiling when a girl in the audience reaches out to grab at Blaine’s tie as he moves by—thankfully he’s rescued by a burly security man who gets him to the stage safely.

 

“Yeah” Blaine replies, “I think so. Sometimes they record these things quite a while before they actually air.”

 

Kurt hums and watches Blaine on the screen and the chat show host hug and shake hands in greeting before taking at seat.

 

“Do you like doing these things?” Kurt asks him, while the host and Blaine start with simple, humorous small talk.  

 

Blaine shrugs. “They’re ok.” He nods his head toward the screen “this one I enjoyed because I like the host, he’s interviewed me a few times before. He asks good questions. He’s nice and not too invasive.”

 

Kurt mulls that over. What exactly are good questions?

 

They sit and watch the interview in a comfortable silence. Blaine’s hands are never far from Kurt— whether they’re in his hair or entwined with his hands or tickling up and down his arms and legs. They both smile and laugh at the same time and when Blaine on screen says something Kurt looks at real life Blaine for affirmation if he was actually telling the truth.

 

Towards the end of the interview Blaine starts to get a little antsy— _both_ Blaine’s. Like they both know what’s coming.

 

“So, Blaine thanks for coming on tonight. It’s been a joy to have you as always” the host says amid cheers of approval from the audience. “I guess we’ll end this with something that I think all of your fans are dying to know—

”

Both Blaine’s and Kurt all inhale a short, quick breath. They _all_ know what’s coming. Even Kurt has seen enough chat shows to know what topic gets saved for last.

 

“Anyone special in your life right now?” The host asks, smiling. “You dating? Courting? Whatever you kids call it these days.” Everybody laughs before a hushed silence falls over the studio—and Kurt’s living room. Everybody sits in anticipation.

 

Blaine on screen breaks out his famous smile and straight away gives the game away. “Yeah.” He answers simply followed by tortured screams and even a few comical “boos” from the audience.

 

“Yeah?” The host copies him, laughing. “That’s it?”

 

Blaine on screen scratches at his jaw and sits up a little straighter in his seat. Blaine, in Kurt’s living room curls one hand affectionately around Kurt’s knee and with his other grips a tight hold of both of Kurt’s hands. On instinct, Kurt curls closer into Blaine’s side. They’re both still silent, eyes glued to the TV screen.

 

“All I’m prepared to say at this moment in time,” Blaine begins on the screen, “is that when I first seen him, and when I first heard his voice—I was like ‘oh there you are.’” A chorus of “aahhs” fill the studio and Blaine blushes and smiles. Both of them. “I’m very lucky and extremely happy and we’re just taking things from here on out.”

 

The host finishes up and announces an ad break and then Blaine on screen is gone.

 

In Kurt’s living room, Blaine picks up the remote from the coffee table and switches off the TV. The room plummets into a silent darkness before Blaine reaches over and switches on the lamp that stands by his side of the couch.

 

Kurt is still yet to say something or at least look in Blaine’s direction.

 

After a while Blaine sighs and turns to face Kurt and brings both pairs of hands into his lap. “Kurt—”

 

“Who-is it me? Were you talking about me?”

 

Blaine barks out a laugh laced with shock and stares at Kurt incredulously. “Of course, I’m talking about you. Who the hell else? Kurt, I’m crazy about you and haven’t left your side for months.”

 

Kurt shakes his head slowly, like he’s not even listening. “Blaine, that interview was from a month ago. Before any of this—” Kurt trails off, looking around the room and then down at their joined hands in Blaine’s lap. His face is open, eyes wide and voice soft. There’s an expression there that Blaine can’t quite read, he doesn’t think he’s seen it on Kurt before.

 

Blaine sighs again, lost and helpless. He feels like he’s in jeopardy, one wrong answer could end it all. Until—

 

“Did you mean it? Really? Is that how you felt?”  

 

“Yes. Its how I _still_ feel” Blaine admits, smiling. “I think its how I’ll always feel about you, Kurt. I’ve tried to tell you before.”

 

Kurt feels something familiar start to build and wash up over him. Panic, nerves, depreciation—his old friends. Those old questions pop up at the forefront of his mind. _How? Why me?_

But then something snaps within him—something unyielding and almost effervescent.  Blaine watches him warily, his hands heavy but careful on Kurt’s like an anchor tethering them together.

 

And for the first time since meeting Blaine, Kurt doesn’t question it. He doesn’t belittle himself or look for reasoning or a way out.

 

“I-I think I feel the same way about you” Kurt whispers with trembling lips and shimmering eyes. Blaine blinks and swallows. “I think- no I _know_ that I have for a while, I just haven’t wanted to admit it— to myself more than to you.”

 

Blaine’s hands fly up to cup both sides of Kurt’s face and with what can only be described as an elated shriek he kisses Kurt square on the lips with a wet smack.

 

Kurt deepens the kiss and fists the front of Blaine’s shirt, and only pulls back when he feels Blaine’s lips stretch into a grin against his mouth.

 

“Oh don’t look so smug” Kurt admonishes, shaking his head back and forth. He’s finding it hard to hide his own shit-eating grin.

 

Blaine giggles and shrugs. “Oh come on, let me have this moment of victory” he teases. His smile is infectious and he can’t keep his hands to himself, roaming all over Kurt’s body up and down.

 

Kurt feels his body go placid and almost falls into Blaine’s lap and open, waiting arms. Of course he’ll let Blaine have his moment of victory. He’ll let Blaine have any moment he wants.

 

Even though a relationship has already been established between them, cemented with their first kiss and followed by many, _many_ other kisses, this feels like its official. Like it’s _theirs_ and nobody can touch it. Not even _Kurt_.  

 

Blaine settles them comfortably against the back of the couch and keeps Kurt safe and tight in his arms. He hooks his chin over Kurt’s shoulder and breathes against his neck, the surface of his smile still there.

 

“What now?” Kurt murmurs, breathing against the shell of Blaine’s ear. “Do we out ourselves? Do we tell people?” Kurt has a brief unnerving image flash through his mind of paps knocking at his door and cameras flashing through his window.

 

Blaine’s arms tighten around him, like he knows what’s going through Kurt’s head. He lifts his head and speaks quietly. “Now, we do or _don’t_ do whatever _you_ want. It’s your call” Blaine’s says against Kurt’s temple. “I only ever want to do right by you. If you want to wait, we’ll wait. I want you to have the career and the experiences that I’ve been lucky to have without anything getting in the way first.” Kurt shivers at Blaine’s admission. “Just promise me that you’ll let me stay by your side—whether it’s literally or figuratively, I don’t care as long I’m with you.”

 

“Yeah” Kurt smiles, “of course. Always.”     


	16. Chapter 16

Since the broadcasting of Blaine’s latest interview, life has definitely upped itself quite a few notches for the pair.

 

Just as Kurt had predicted the paparazzi are onto Blaine like detectives onto a new, hot scandal, and they seem to be everywhere he is, all trying to catch the money shot of Blaine and his mysterious other half. 

 

Thankfully, because Kurt is still ‘unknown’ (for now) there doesn’t seem to be any reporters or photographers sniffing around him. But he knows he’s on a ticking clock from here on out.

 

Blaine had apologised initially, saying that he should have talked to Kurt before he said something like that for the whole world to see and hear. He’d moped around like a grumpy puppy until Kurt kissed him quiet and told him not to worry.

 

The truth is Kurt can’t really be angry or worried about it because he was just so infatuated with what Blaine had said and what it means. About _him_ and about _them._

He knows what he got himself into and this is just all part of the after-math. With a relationship like _theirs,_ they can’t stay hidden forever, they know this and Kurt doesn’t think he’d want to keep them a secret forever. He just would have appreciated a little more time to figure things out—but sometimes you don’t get a choice in what life has to throw at you.    

 

They’re even more careful with where and how they see each other. Even though they only live a few blocks apart now, Blaine has his driver and minder take him to Kurt’s whenever the coast is clear. Kurt coming to Blaine’s is completely out of the question now as too many reporters already know where Blaine lives and are often spotted lurking around his building. With the news out about Blaine dating somebody, the second they see Kurt, his face will be all over the papers and speculation will begin.

 

They try to meet in their usual mutual places like Harry’s bar and other places of solitary solace but it’s becoming too risky. Unfortunately their dates have to suffer, they’d been becoming harder and harder to achieve until eventually they hardly even bother trying anymore.

 

Phone call and text message conversations seem to be the best way to have any interaction with each other at the moment, which is obviously taking a toll on their more intimate and physical needs as a couple. So, they’re only kissing and hugging at this stage— and every now and then rutting against each other when the mood strikes— but it’s still something that they can’t _stand_ missing out on.

 

Blaine has a very professional, well equipped team who are loyal and willing to help them in their personal lives. They’ve grown very accustomed to Kurt and having him around is just like having another member of staff—but also somebody else they have to protect. They can only do so much.

 

Kurt even feels a little nervous whenever he leaves to go to work—whatever that may be for him that day.

 

At auditions he eyes everybody carefully who’s sitting in the small waiting room with him. He has paranoid thoughts about the casting panel and because of that he messes up some lines. He stumbles over his steps in rehearsals and leaves at the end of his day feeling disappointed and pissed that he couldn’t give it his all.

 

This is not what is supposed to happen.

 

“Please don’t bail on me. I know it’s hard but it’ll get better, soon. I promise.” Blaine pleads through the phone, late one night. His voice is cracking and Kurt sniffles, trying to show some restraint.

 

“I know. I won’t- I _can’t._ ” Kurt promises down the phone, trying to sound as comforting as possible. Because even though _he_ is the one suffering and sad at the moment—so is _Blaine_ and the thought of disappointing Blaine hurts even more than any of the other crap going on.

 

Because _neither_ of them asked for any of this, after all. Why should two hearts suffer just for the benefit of the rest of the world?      

 

As an end result, Kurt is at near breaking point— but only when he’s alone. When he’s with Blaine he feels calm and relaxed and happy, and the idea of their relationship and all the secrets and sneaking around make a whole load of sense.

 

But when Blaine is off working wherever he’s needed on his newest thing and Kurt is busy trying to concentrate on his current audition or rehearsal piece, but _just_ can’t because he’s too scared of getting caught with Blaine, or worse being distracted wondering when and how he’ll see his boyfriend _(boyfriend!!)_ again—that’s when it all comes to a thundering halt.

 

The word boyfriend, even unspoken in his own mind space still gives Kurt’s tingles. It excites him and reminds him why he’s putting himself through all of this. Because he wants a career _and_ a _boyfriend,_ but doesn’t want to sacrifice one or the other or have them both moulded into the same category. So he will just have to make do with this current, annoyingly frustrating situation.

 

It’s just so _hard._

 

He Skypes with Tai and that always helps—Tai’s words of wisdom should be bottled up and sold on shelves for therapy treatment. But Tai’s words can still only do so much; it’s his presence that Kurt needs—some kind of solidarity that he can hold on to.

 

He thinks about picking up the phone and finally telling his dad, but he has reservations. Burt Hummel’s only interests are greasy food, mechanics, football and his family—he’ll have no idea who Blaine Anderson is which would make the whole thing easier. But, Carole- his wife and Kurt’s stepmom is a sucker for chick-flicks and will most definitely know who Blaine is. Also, she’s a nurse and nurses can gossip to Space and back once in their staff-lounge. She’ll be too excited and too happy for Kurt that she won’t ever realize she’s let it slip until Fox News arrives at her doorstep. Finn, Kurt’s step-brother is a bit of a movie buff and will chew his ear off he ever finds out about it.

 

So that’s the end of that thought.    

 

It’s the first week of September and the Vogue office is like a whirlwind of action with everybody prepping for the Fall and Winter lines and fashion shows coming up.

Isabelle is floating around as she always does; dressed to perfection, looking the epitome of calm while she handles everybody’s problems as well as her own.

 

When she gets to Kurt’s desk, she takes one look at his pale, hollow face and the full fat coke can on his desk beside a basket of mini chocolate muffins and closes the door behind her before coming to lean on the desk beside him.

 

“Talk to me, honey. What is it?” She asks, so nicely that Kurt almost cries at the softness of her voice.

 

And so Kurt does talk to her. He can’t help it; it’s like a dam breaking. He clings on to her and spills against her shoulder and doesn’t miss a thing out from the very beginning to where they’re at now.

 

Isabelle tuts and hums, she gasps and arches an eyebrow, winks and smiles and overall offers a soothing pat of her hand over Kurt’s back and shoulders. She doesn’t once interrupt him or give any kind of expression of judgement.

 

Kurt _loves_ her all the more.

 

“You started all of this” He whines, pointing at her. He’s half teasing and half genuinely serious.  Isabelle pouts and then smiles apologetically at him.

 

When he’s finally composed, feeling weightless with relief washing over him, Isabelle un-wraps her arms from him and takes a bite out of a muffin before offering it to Kurt. “Let me ask you something and answer it honestly.” She says.

 

Kurt takes the offered muffin and finishes it in just two mouthfuls. He’s nod at her, cheeks full, eyes wide with anticipation.

 

She tilts her head to the side, her eyes are so soft and expressive and her voice is gentle. “Are you happy?”

 

Kurt’s shoulders sag with relief.

 

It’s not what he expected her to ask and he finds that he can answer it easily with no qualms or hesitation. “Yes.” It comes out almost as a sigh.

 

Isabelle smiles brightly and she jabs at his knee jovially. “Good. Well you just gotta keep your chin up and keep on going. As long as you’re happy and it’s what you both want then screw the rest of the world. Don’t let them get you down. What will happen will happen.” She says, and with each word she speaks Kurt feels a little bit lighter and brighter, like the small simmering flame inside of him has just been renewed and he’s glowing hot and full again.

 

Not only does Isabelle offer Kurt some amazing, life affirming advice that gets him back on his feet again, but she goes and does one better by offering he and Blaine the use of her Lodge in Lake Tahoe that she shares with her husband.

 

“I don’t think we’ll need it until the holidays so make the most of it, honey.” She says with a wink and a smile while pressing a spare iron key into Kurt’s hand.

 

*

 

They choose to make use of Isabelle’s offer in mid-October time.

 

Blaine doesn’t have anything important scheduled and all of Kurt’s current shows are over so Isabelle sends him off telling him not to worry about anything but his relationship.

 

“Fashion can wait. Love can not!” She shrieks and Kurt bolts out of his chair to put a hand over her grinning mouth.

 

They arrive at the airport separately and Kurt follows the instructions he’s been given until he’s on the tarmac and Blaine’s manager greets him with a warm smile and walks him over to a small aircraft.

 

His team have managed to get them booked on a private jet and when Kurt boards the plane to find an excited, smiley Blaine all reservations he may have had about this whole thing ebb away.

 

A car with blacked out windows picks them up from the airport when they land and delivers them all the way to the lodge undetected. The driver is staying in a hotel nearby just in case he is needed.

 

The lodge is situated just a few feet away from the lake with a wood and stone built-up veranda that has steps leading right down to the waters edge. Tall trees of all types surround the lodge, some still with their green leaves and some beginning to fade for Autumn. The grass is long and soft beneath their feet and if they should return during a colder month they can imagine how gorgeous the ground would look under a glossy film of white snow.

 

Kurt breathes in, long and slow and feels all of his worries begin to dissipate as he exhales. After their driver has made sure there is nobody around and has unlocked the front door and placed their bags inside, Blaine exits the car and comes to stand behind Kurt with arms wrapped around his middle and his chin hooked over Kurt’s shoulder. He kisses the pad of Kurt’s shoulder covered by a thick-knit gray sweater and whispers out towards the water “thanks for holding in there with me.”

 

Kurt smiles and hums and sways in Blaine’s hold. _He_ could say the same to Blaine too.  

 

Once safely inside after the door has been locked and the curtains drawn and the fire begins to crackle away with the slow burning kindling, they finally realize that they’re alone.

 

 _Just_ them. No worries, no fears. No reason to hold back.

 

They have a week to themselves in a gorgeous, secluded lodge and they won’t waste a moment of it. Their luggage still sitting untouched by the door can wait.

 

“C’mere, you” Blaine drawls, grinning and opening his arms out as Kurt crashes into them. He tackles Blaine down onto the couch in front of the log fire and keeps him there.

 

Blaine eyes are scorching like whiskey flames, as he blinks up at Kurt, drinking him in, behind long, dark lashes. Kurt could get lost forever in those eyes.

 

Well, for _a week_ at least.

 

*

 

Four days later, Kurt is situated comfortably under a mound of blankets on a lounger out on the veranda. It’s surprisingly not too cold for the time of year and the sun is just beginning to set over the lake, casting a beautiful glowing reflection over the water.

 

There is a bottle of wine cooling in an ice bucket on the table and Blaine is grilling chicken breasts and vegetables (which Kurt had pre chopped and seasoned) on the outdoor stone-grill to make skewers with for dinner.

 

Kurt thinks that life couldn’t get any better than what it is now. The veranda is mostly covered by a waterproof stretch of material which is fixed to the roof of the lodge and stands out over the veranda on poles. It can be moved around in order to catch some rays of sunshine but it’s comforting to know that it’s there’s for privacy.

 

They’ve hardly seen anybody else around which makes them happy that they’ve chosen this time of year to come.

 

Blaine is just serving up the skewers on to plates and Kurt is now sitting at the table pouring their wine into glasses when his phone buzzes and skitters across the table.

 

“Ignore it” Blaine grins but Kurt knows he’s teasing. He looks over at the screen and squints.

 

When he picks up the phone and examines the number flashing up, Blaine puts his tongs down on the cooling rack, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “Who is it?”

 

“It’s a New York number” Kurt answers, glancing up at him. He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “I-I think it’s that theater, the one I had an audition with a month ago. I just thought they’d decided to go in another direction because I’d never heard—”

 

Blaine leans down and rests a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, “the one on Broadway? Kurt, answer it!” He exclaims a little giddily.

 

And so Kurt does. And then everything changes.


	17. Chapter 17

It shouldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t be possible. It shouldn’t have taken such a small amount of time between graduating college and auditioning like crazy before he actually got a role that he wants—a role that he deserves.

 

But it _is_ and it _has_.

 

Kurt can proudly say that his debut role on Broadway is that of the lead of Rusty in the revival of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Starlight Express, to open early next year.

 

It is obviously a very physically demanding role with a lot of room for injury. Endless amounts of training is essential for Kurt to become wholly comfortable on roller-skates while singing and dancing and of course _acting_ — which is why week long rehearsals are starting at least 4-5 months prior to opening night.

 

It’s a lot to digest and it took him a while to believe that he actually did it all on his own. Kurt had asked Blaine a number of times if he had anything to do with it, to which Blaine would hold up his hands expressing his innocence and give Kurt a wounded puppy look.

 

Eventually, Kurt gives up and believes him and trusts that Blaine has only ever supported him in the way that Kurt has asked him to.  

 

His dad and Carole cry with tears of happiness down the phone when he tells them. Finn sends him text messages with a lot of shouty-capitals, and Isabelle insists on throwing him a huge bash to celebrate (including a leaving party.) Kurt’s time at Vogue is no longer needed, for now. He knows that Isabelle will always have him back in a heartbeat should he decide to return to fashion.

 

Blaine is of course ecstatic and over the moon for him. He treats Kurt like a prince and is so very dramatic and over the top, and once he’s calmed down and stopped showering Kurt with celebratory flowers and gifts of all sorts, he then starts up with the inevitable teasing.

 

“I’d be an awesome Greaseball. I wonder who they cast for that part? Cause _I’d_ be better. Hey, I wonder if they’d re-write it a little and give the old Diesel train a happy ending…you know, a happy ending _with_ the steam locomotive.” He says with a wink and a horrendously suggestive eyebrow wriggle.

 

They’re still not known as a couple yet, not to anybody but Tai, Isabelle and Blaine’s entourage of friends and staff. Which means that they’re still keeping behind closed doors, but now with Kurt’s slow but sure rise to stardom it can only get better and easier, right? They won’t have to hide for much longer once Kurt gets to where he wants to be in his career.

 

“I’ll have to wear a trench coat and a hat in disguise, so that I can sit in the front row on your opening night” Blaine says seriously, scowling when Kurt laughs at him.

 

“Is that necessary?” Kurt teases from the table where he’s highlighting some lines in his script book.

 

“Yes. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else and I don’t want to draw any attention away from you. This is _your_ show and it will be _your_ night. Many nights.” Blaine’s voice is soft but heavy with conviction.

 

Kurt scrunches up his nose adorably and drops himself into Blaine’s lap where he’s sitting in an armchair in Kurt’s living area. “That’s awfully sweet of you. We’ll work something out.” He assures him.

 

Blaine kisses his nose, his brow, his cheeks, his lips… and that conversation is shelved for another day.

 

On top of everything, Kurt is just so immensely proud of himself, and proud that this spectacular, inspiring role is actually _his_.

 

The director of the show had told him how much Kurt impressed the whole panel at his audition. How his singing style was lovely and different and how he loved Kurt’s portrayal of a very sensitive Rusty who just wanted a chance—a chance to show everybody what he can do and a chance at finding real love and seeing it through.

 

A chance to show that anything is possible if you just put your mind to it.

 

It all seems very wonderfully fitting to Kurt.

 

*

 

It’s the very early hours of a cool, November Sunday morning and Kurt has managed to sneak back to Blaine’s condo, unseen after a long, gruelling day and night of skate practice.

 

The professionals are in teaching the amateur skaters simple jumps and bunny hops, how to stop and reverse and general cool-looking stunts of all kinds. Kurt’s head spins with all there is to learn and be aware of—he’s just glad that they actually hire real pro-skaters to do the high flips off of the ramps and stunt doubles to take part in the races.  

 

His wrist is already strapped up and he has extra padding on his left knee, but he still loves it and can’t imagine doing anything else right now—even though his insurance premium is currently sky high.

 

The doorman of Blaine’s building knows who Kurt is now— he’d signed a confidentially contract years ago when he first got his job and he and Blaine had grown to be fond friends, so there’s no worries there. Kurt also knows all of the pass-codes to get up to Blaine’s floor and can let himself in easily and quietly.

 

Blaine is half asleep when Kurt creeps into his bedroom and crawls into bed beside him— stripping out of his clothes as he climbs in and settles against Blaine’s side.

 

Blaine is naked and warm and groans deliciously when Kurt spoons up behind him with his own now-bare body. He knows how much Blaine loves it when he pushes his cool fingers and toes into Blaine’s sleep-warm skin.

 

“Choo-choo” Blaine whispers with an added laugh into his pillow. It’s something that he’s started doing for some odd, unknown reason whenever Kurt’s been to a ‘how to act like a train’ rehearsal. He thinks it’s hilarious. Kurt doesn’t.

 

Kurt mutters something unintelligible under his breath and slaps Blaine’s bare ass half-heartedly under the covers. Blaine flinches, squeaks and laughs all at the same time and turns over so that his face is pressed to Kurt’s chest with one arm thrown over Kurt’s hip.

 

Kurt has one arm up on the pillow beside his head and lifts his other arm to let Blaine snuggle into him close and tight. His body is tired and aching all over but in a delicious, satisfied kind of way.

 

He loves this—being able to come home to Blaine in the dead of night, after a long day of working and doing something that he loves, to then return to a dark, silent room, to be able to join his lover in bed with barely any conversation because it’s just that comfortable and easy to go from one love to _another_.

 

He’s on the brink of sleep and Blaine is starting to make those cute little snuffling sounds he makes when he’s nearly asleep, but Kurt can’t help but open his mouth and whisper into the darkness “I’m so happy, right now,” against Blaine’s mussed up hair.

 

Blaine grins sleepily and Kurt can feel the shape of his mouth against his chest. He sighs happily when Blaine inhales a small breath and in a hushed tone sings “you were only waiting for this moment to arise.” Kurt shivers all over, his smile stretching to his sleepy eyes. It’s _true._

 

He loves it when Blaine sings to him. Blaine _always_ sings to him. Whether it’s in a show—live or pre-recorded—or even in the shower or when he’s shaving in front of the bathroom mirror. But, whenever he sings- _whatever_ he sings, it’s always for Kurt. Blaine has told Kurt as much, whenever he gets the chance.

 

“I’ve been thinking” Kurt muses. His arm clings tighter around Blaine’s back and side.

 

“Mmm?” Blaine answers in more of a rumble than anything verbal.

 

There’s a lengthy pause before Kurt speaks again. He breathes in deep and exhales long and slow—he’s been taking yoga classes recently to focus on good energy and rid himself of any unwanted worry and stress. It’s paying off.

 

“What we have between us” Kurt begins, his voice deep and quiet and slightly trembling. “It started off as just a chance right? An accident, kind of?”

 

Blaine’s body stiffens a little, not knowing where Kurt is going with this. It’s an incredibly odd hour of the day to bring up such a subject. But Blaine hums his understanding and lets him continue, he blinks his eyes opens and Kurt giggles at the feel of Blaine’s eyelashes brushing against his chest.

 

“And then- well then the _chance_  turned into a possibility. A prospect, something that could defy the odds and expectation. It turned into something _more_.” Kurt’s voice is so achingly soft. Blaine _loves_ when he gets like this.

 

Blaine props his chin up on Kurt’s chest and looks at him as best as he can. The blackout blinds over the bedroom window offer no source of streetlight, but Blaine can still make out the outline of Kurt’s strong jaw, the shape of his nose and the flutter of his blinking eyelashes.

 

“Have you been Googling the meaning of words during your breaks today?” He asks Kurt, his tone pitched with amusement and a little bit of worry. He’s still not sure where Kurt is going with this random but lovely spiel of his.

 

Kurt looks down at Blaine, grins and rolls his eyes. It’s not a yes but it’s not a no either. Blaine is now very curious.

 

Kurt strokes a finger over Blaine’s temple and uses the tip to curl a lock of Blaine’s hair around it. “It’s like we- what we have is the perfect balance of serendipity” Kurt breathes, his eyes are shining with what looks like joy and awe. “A twist of fate, something that should have been a risk but…wasn’t. It _isn’t_. It’s actually…perfect.”

 

Blaine sits up further, propped up by an elbow and gently takes Kurt’s chin between his fingers of his free hand. He leans in and kisses Kurt soundly, softly.

 

“Kurt?” He whispers around Kurt’s lips. A prompt, anything to understand why Kurt is saying these things. Why now?

 

“It’s just funny how a chance meeting can turn into… _destiny_.” Kurt says, swallowing hard and Blaine almost copies him, gulping down a soft gasp. “And, I don’t just mean our relationship. I mean my life; everything that I’ve wanted has all fallen into my lap so quickly and easily. It’s like the work of an angel. And it’s all ever since I met you.” Blaine’s eyes shimmer a little, an exact reflection of Kurt’s eyes except for the difference in colour. “A chance that wasn’t meant to be- somebody I wasn’t supposed to like. A superstar that I wasn’t supposed to _love_.” Kurt manages to finish, just catching a dry sob which turns into a sniffle followed by a giggle.

 

Blaine sniffles and giggles with him. He smiles so damn wide that it looks like it hurts and kisses Kurt’s forehead firm and slow before pulling back to tip their heads together. “I love you, Kurt Hummel” he says, “so, very much.”

 

“Me too” Kurt whispers, “I am irrevocably in love with you, Blaine Anderson. And the answer to your question from last month, I can finally say—”

 

Blaine’s eyes widen as his mouth falls open. There is every single possibility and scenario running through his head right now.

 

“—is _yes”_ Kurt breathes, grinning from ear to ear “—because life is all about taking chances. And with you, Blaine, they pay off.”  


	18. Epilogue

For her 14th birthday, Georgia couldn’t think of doing anything worse than spending it with her family. It’s October and barely warm— why would she want to spend a week with her idiot twin brothers and her annoying parents in a small-ish cabin with no Wifi?

 

Probably because it’s out by the lake and her grandpa lives there. At least she likes her grandpa; they’re like two peas in a pod and he’s fun to hang out with.

 

Her birthday present from her grandpa is his old camera that he used to keep for bird and nature watching. His love of photography has definitely rubbed off on to her. He’d cleaned it up and replaced some parts and handed it over to her almost as good as new.

 

She was thrilled. Maybe this week wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

 

A few days into their stay, Georgia was sitting by the waters edge trying to capture a good view of the sun setting over the lake. She was messing around with the settings and pushing unknown buttons when the camera lens zoomed fast and full and focused in on something right across the other side of the lake.

 

The picture was crystal clear. A single lodge, a little bigger than her grandpa’s, surrounded and almost hidden by tall overgrown trees. 

 

Georgia, held on tight to the camera, pushed her face closer towards it so that her right eye was tucked in securely to the piece that covers her whole eye and eyebrow. She adjusted a setting and the picture moved a little, blurred up but then came back even clearer and a little closer.

 

Two men were standing out on the veranda. A shorter man with dark hair had a taller man tight within the circle of his arms. They looked like they were jumping and dancing of some kind. Possibly celebrating? Obviously happy about something.

 

The taller man leaned down and swept up the other guy into a hug. Then they started kissing deeply and passionately. Georgia couldn’t really make out their faces, nobody she recognised instantly, but she was in awe of them. They were obviously very happy about something and loved each other very much.

 

Then, the shorter man stepped back and slowly got down onto the ground, kneeling in front of the other man who looked like he was about to cry.

 

Georgia gasped and smiled. She’s seen enough romance movies to _know_ what that particular gesture means.

 

She took the shot.

 

*

 

The rest of Georgia’s vacation flew by and soon they were back at home. She actually had a nice time and kind of missed the cabin and her grandpa.

 

She hadn’t said anything to her family about what she’d captured on the other side of the lake with her camera that day. It seemed too sweet and private. Though, she was very proud of the picture she had taken—a captured moment of two people deciding on the rest of their lives together.

 

The camera’s battery had sadly blipped out after she’d taken the photo, so she’d went back to the cabin and asked her grandpa to replace it for her. The thing was _old_ to be fair.

 

Only, she’d returned home and forgotten to get the camera back off her grandpa. She then had to wait until spring break to go visit her grandpa again and recover her camera and the pictures she’d taken.

 

On Sunday night after returning home from her grandpa’s cabin by the lake once more, Georgia sits at her computer and loads up the photo’s she’d taken.

 

She smiles looking at her picture of the couple—one down on his knee, the other staring down at him in shock, hands covering his mouth.

 

It’s still a little difficult to make out their faces but that doesn’t bother Georgia, she doesn’t know them. It’s a lovely photo all the same and the more she stares at it the more she thinks that it should be shared with the world.

 

If it’s put on the internet the couple might somehow see it and will love having that gorgeous, private moment between them captured and shared.

 

She signs into her twitter account, writes out a quick tweet and attaches the picture.

 

**_Georgiaaaxoxo@photographyislife_ **

**_Caught this beautiful pic last Oct @ my grandpa’s cabin in Lake Tahoe. I hope wherever these guys are they’re happy and see this 1 day:) <3_ **

**_1 Picture attached. Click here to download._ **

**_Damonisalive@salavorebros4eva_ **

**_@photographyislife OMG!! Do u kno who dat is?? Zoom zoom zooooom in!!_ **

****

**_Musicinmyblood@musicallover_ **

**_@photographyislife holy shiiit!! That’s Kurt and Blaine. That’s Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel!!_ **

****

**_Iamthestarlight@expresserstar_ **

**_@photographyislife Fuuuuck bro! That’s Kurt!! That’s Rusty and fucking Blaine Anderson. They’re fucking! They r getting MARRIED!_ **

****

**_Blaineismybae@Blainerforlyfe_ **

**_@photographyislife nfuhfhoifhgtbntrwlknfowihoinnlkmnadwjpiwhqygnwmfkdwgouhrewoiugfihbwrfvcw;obhfiewoiuhn---No but seriously Look how happy he looks!!!_ **

****

**_Kurtsy@Kurtscoiff_ **

**_@photographyislife *HEAVYBREATHING* IM FIIIIIINNNNEEEE?????_ **

****

**_Andersass@datassthoblainee_ **

**_@photographyislife *cries 4eva*_ **

****

**_Blaine_ ** **_Anderson@OfficalBlaineAnderson_ **

**_[1 picture attached] Oh look at that @TheKurtHummel …I think they’ve found us out. At least we made it for almost a year :) ;p <3_ **

****

**_Kurt Hummel@TheKurtHummel_ **

**_@OfficalBlaineAnderson I think you’re right, honey. I hope they’re happy about it? I know I am! Photo cred to @photographyislife gorgeous pic, sweetie!_ **

****

**_Blaine_ ** **_Anderson@OfficalBlaineAnderson_ **

**_@TheKurtHummel Is it too late to tell them we already eloped?!? <3 <3 _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so very much for reading and reviewing joining me on this journey. I can’t express how much it means to read all of your comments and thoughts. I couldn’t have finished it without you. Please keep an eye out for possible one-shots in this verse also. There is definitely a deleted smutty scene coming your way soon, and I’m always open to prompts!


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